To Dwell on Dreams
by mermaidgirl45
Summary: After Voldemort fell, the world was supposed to recover. Instead, the world is falling apart at the seams. Desperate, Shacklebolt sends the six Hogwarts Heros back, armed with seven novels, to see if they change history for the better, or for the worse.
1. Prologue: After the War

**A/N: Oh no! This is another story where the ****characters ****read the books, isn't it? Oh yes! I have always been fascinated with this particular plot, though it's been done to death and back. There's just so much potential in this story, for drama and ****tragedy ****and what not, so I decided to become the 187th person to attempt such. Hopefully, it won't rot. I actually put some thought into this, so it wouldn't just fall over. Hope you like it. =)**

**Disclaimer: Credit goes to JK Rowling and Warner Bro's.**

The Dark Lord had fallen. His fifty-year reign of terror and fear and death, of broken families and shattered lives, of murder, torture, and disappearances, had now ended. It was a great cause for celebration. Yet, the celebration was short lasted. Doubt started creeping in. How could one be certain that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was truly vanquished? He had risen once before. Who's to say he would never do it again? At this point, his conqueror was forced to reveal the truth. "Voldemort did the unthinkable. In his quest for immortality, Voldemort created a horcrux," Harry Potter declared before all Wizarding folk. "However, it was not enough to murder and destroy his soul once. He did this six times, and his soul was placed in seven separate places. Dumbledore left me the task of finishing off these horcruxes, so that Voldemort could die. I have found all six and destroyed them, as well as Voldemort himself."

The revelation of Voldemort's atrocity shook the Wizarding world. Only a handful of the population even understood the concept of a horcrux. When this information became wide spread, panic ensued. Harry was called upon again and again, giving full accounts of his adventures, reassuring the public repeatedly that Voldemort was defeated once and for all. Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger were questioned as well, and did their best to reassure the terrified community. The fear only grew.

The dementors, foul, ancient creatures, were now numbering in the thousands. Muggles all over Britain were beginning to notice. Dementors could only be killed off by starving them of victims and of their natural habitat: despair. With sorrow and fear running rampant, the dementors found no shortage of meals. Worse, the remaining Death Eaters had to be imprisoned somehow. Powerful wizards and witches were called in to protect Azkaban with the strongest enchantments and curses known to the Wizarding World. This seemed a good solution, and few escaped. But the few who did were still at large.

The Auror task force was almost completely depleted. All graduates of Hogwarts were almost immediately inducted into Auror training camp to help round up the last Death Eaters, fend off dementors, and provide general stability for the crumbling public. Most completed training, but the Ministry was too disorganized and scattered to send orders. There was an utter distrust of the government from the suppressive regime. Most cried "Impervious Curse," and all were still being questioned, the Ministry trying to sort out the liars from the honest. There was hardly any order, and Kingsley Shacklebolt, the new Minister of Magic walked a delicate line. Though a strong leader, a country recovering from a secret war proposes a challenge. If Shacklebolt extended too much authority, the community cried out, afraid of a new dictatorship. If Shacklebolt drew back, the crime rates soared and the economy started dropping, causing uproar. The Wizarding World rapidly bounced from one extreme to the other. The muggle Prime Minister visited frequently, almost hysterical.

Diagon Alley, once lively and thriving, was now full of trash and boarded up windows. Abandoned shops lined the street, old propaganda floated on the rare breeze, and the few stragglers scurried along. New shops were popping up all across Britain, trying to get a head start and recover from the war. Most families had towering debts, as they had smuggled food and supplies during the war. The shops were scattered, and word was passed around on a local level. The _Daily Prophet_ was discontinued, and the _Quibbler_ the main source of whatever news Xenophilious Lovegood could scrape together.

Hogwarts, a symbol of Wizarding Britain, was in slow and painful reconstruction. Towers were being rebuilt and rooms restored, all with the original enchantments. The emotional wounds mended even more slowly. A memorial stood to those who lost their lives on the grounds, as if anyone needed a reminder. The school will open for its first year since the war this September, in one month. Very few wish to return, and the newly discovered muggle borns will have quite a world to explore.

It was upon these issues that Kingsley Shacklebolt was musing upon. He stood in his office, overlooking the London streets. Muggles strolled with friends and family, only vaguely aware of the world that lay inches from their own. The two rarely collided, such as it was now. The Minister of Magic turned around at the sound of a quiet roar. "You wished to see me, Kingsley?" Harry Potter calmly walked out of a fireplace. The green flames receded only to flare up again and emit two more wizards: Neville Longbottom and Ron Weasley. "Yes, Harry. Thank you for joining me, Neville. Ron." The two nodded politely and all sat. Kingsley stared intently at his desk for a few moments, and then drew a deep breath.

"The Wizarding World is struggling to get back onto its feet." He studied the faces of the three leading Auroras in Great Britain. They were only too aware of the situation. "There is no trust in the Ministry, which I understand. The Aurors are trying to recruit and catch the few remaining Death Eaters, who can potentially escape Azkaban now with the dementors gone and only magical protections remaining. The dementors are breeding more than ever, and quite a few attacks have been made on muggles. The economy is sinking, petty and major crimes rising, and the situation has changed seemingly little since Voldemort's rise to power."

Ron, Neville, and Harry watched the Minister quietly. He seemed to have made a decision. "I have been thinking. It's been almost ten years since You-Know-Who's fall. Ten years. Last time he fell, the Wizarding world had been united in ten years, completely recovered. We seem to be slipping backward. We're nowhere near such recovery. There is an atmosphere of hopelessness. The people are grieving, not only for the loved ones had they lost, but the stability and support of the old days. They are terrified that a darker wizard may rise again, or that You-Know-Who will come back, worse than before. It is now time for drastic measures."

He took up a spare piece of parchment that had been lying on his desk and showed it to him. "This," he began, "is the plans for a device you all know of: a time-turner." The Aurors' eyes grew wide and Shacklebolt paused. "You don't seriously mean to go back in time?" asked Ron, disbelief on his face. Shacklebolt rose, and began pacing. "I don't know. I'm desperate._ Desperate_. Every day that goes by, I feel the weight of troubles pressing down on me, and it's getting worse. There seems to be no way to rectify the situation. If, somehow, we sent some sort of intervention into the past, Voldemort could fall quicker. Fewer people would die, and the Battle of Hogwarts may be avoided completely. It is extremely dangerous, absolutely no doubt about it. There are a million things that could go wrong. However, I feel that a million things have gone on already and a million more may be on their way. What are you thinking?"

"You can't be serious, Kingsley!" Ron cried. "What would we even do? Go back to our seventh year, and let us know exactly where all the horcruxes are? Go to the Order and tell them where Voldemort is? I mean, it sounds nice when you say it, but doing it. . . They wouldn't believe us, Moody would hex the life out of us, and if something deeper than we know happened, we'd all die, or worse! It'd change history, and history is best left alone! The situation is . . . difficult, yes, but we'll get on our feet again!" Harry sat silent, musing. _A time turner?_ He had a vision of Hermione in their third year, pulling him into the bushes. "_We mustn't be seen!" Well, we wouldn't be seen. We'd just directly interfere with the course of history as we know it._ He followed Shacklebolt's gaze out the window. He just talked to Ginny about it last night.

"It's not getting any better is it, Harry?" Harry looked straight into those fearless brown eyes he had come to know so well, and hugged her tight. "No. It's not. But, one day, it will be." His wife hadn't looked so sure. Harry thought back on all the death he had seen at Voldemort's hands. Lily and James, his parents. Cedric. Sirius. Dumbledore. Mad-Eye Moody. Fred. Tonks. Lupin. Dobby. Even Snape. They could all be here, right now, standing with him. They could all help with the recovering effort. But, would it just make things worse? Even more people might die. Some might not even be born. His children: James, Albus, and Lily. He reflected upon Teddy Lupin, his godson. He may save the lives of those before him, but was it worth risking his children now?

Neville spoke up. "Kingsley, I understand what you mean. You're not the only one afraid for the Wizarding World right now." Neville had done his share of thinking as well. "However, time is a fickle thing. I'm not sure we could manage to pull it off without disastrous consequences. Have you given this anymore thought besides simply going back in time?" Kingsley ceased pacing, and returned to behind the desk. "I have. I've given this a great deal of thought, believe it or not. My initial idea was to send you three back to the night before Voldemort disappeared. You could supply the Order with the information we have now, and they could defeat Voldemort. That way, we have all the Aurors and citizens from that time forward mostly alive, and ready to help. That includes Lily and James Potter, Alice and Frank Longbottom, Dumbledore, Moody, Lupin, Tonks, Sirius, and the rest. They could all help. Can you imagine? Can you imagine if all those people had their lives spared? We could recover, we could thrive, and we could be growing in leaps and bounds."

Kingsley was right. A million things could go wrong. In fact, all probability was against them. Ron shook his head firmly. "Kingsley, I just don't know." The Minister looked Ron straight in the eye. "You know that I would only do this unless I truly thought this was our last option. It might not be. Go home and think about it. Sit on it for a while, and let me know. I ask just one thing. Don't tell anyone."


	2. Prologue: The Plan

"Kingsley." Kingsley took no offense at the cold greeting. These were cold, dark times. "Ron, so glad you could make it. Come join us." Harry and Neville had arrived earlier. It had been three months since their first meeting. Not only had the situation gotten steadily worse, but it had plunged downward with a breakout of Azkaban. Five more Death Eaters were at large now. Trust in the Ministry plunged as well. Kingsley was holding on to stability with threads.

"I'm assuming you've each given this a lot of thought?" Kingsley asked gravely. Neville nodded. "I'm terrified. We might mess up and ruin history forever. But, I do think it's worth a go. Things don't seem to be getting much better, at all. With the new Death Eaters on the loose, people are worried another dark wizard will rise up. I can't believe I'm saying this, but it's an actual possibility now. General knowledge of dark arts is floating around and we aren't exactly in the strongest position to oppose another You-Know-Who." With a nod Harry added, "It'd be incredibly risky, but I do understand how it might be a good idea." A meditative silence fell. "Well!" Ron burst out. "Are we going to do this or not?" Kingsley took a deep breath. "I vote yes." "As do I." "And, I as well." Ron looked slightly disappointed. "Alright," he sighed, running a hand through his flaming hair.

"Harry, Ron, and I should go." Neville said. "Kingsley, are you coming?" The Minister shook his head. "I must stay here."

"Hermione should come," Ron said quickly. He added a fourth name to the list.

"Well, if Hermione comes, so does Ginny!" argued Harry. "We'll probably need all the help we can get, anyway."

"Let's bring Luna, too. It'll be just like our old DA days."

And so these six were chosen, as well as the date: October 30, 1981. "What are we going to tell them?" asked Harry. And it was Ron's idea that they eventually agreed upon. "What if we told them all about Harry's adventures? We can't just barge in there and start spewing vital information about the war. We'll have to take our time somehow so they can absorb it and come up with the best plan."

"So, Ron, any idea how to stop time?"

Neville's face lit up. "Yes! The Room of Requirement! It can work the same way as the Time Turner, kinda. They could read and meet in there, and take all the time they wanted! Plus we wouldn't have to worry about food and drink and what not."

"Brilliant, Neville!" shouted Ron.

"But, what about 'my adventures'? Who's going to write about that?" Harry asked. They were stumped for a while, until Kingsley spoke.

"You remember Rita Skeeter?"

"How could anyone forget her?" Ron moaned.

"But what if we used her quill? A. . . Quick Quote Quill?"

"Let's do a story for each of Harry's years!" Ron cried, in another moment of brilliance.

"A story? More like a book," Harry snorted.

"Fine," retorted Ron.

"Well, that actually might work," Neville said slowly. "That way they can get to know us and realize the full situation."

The four bantered out details for hours, and eventually set out to find a quill. After purchasing one, it took over another three more months to complete the books, during which the official plans were made.

* * *

><p>Hermione raced around the room, making sure everything was ready. "Alright. All seven books?" Ginny held up three and Neville the other four. "And all the notes?" Ron shook the box, grinning at Hermione's frantic last-minute checks. She took several deep breaths. "I swore I was done with time travel, but I guess this is an exception." Shacklebolt smiled, and held the time turner out to her. She proceeded to loop it around her own neck, as well as around Ron, Harry, Ginny, Luna, and Neville. The gold chain grew longer with every new addition. Hermione started carefully spinning the hourglass, counting silently, as Shacklebolt looked at the group long and hard. "I trust you all. I pray that all goes well. Use caution and wisdom and judgment. You know the story of Voldemort's fall as well as anyone." He looked very grim. "Stick together and stay together. Don't let anything come in between you. Good luck." Hermione was counting under her breath. "Five. Four. Three. Two. One." And the six disappeared.<p>

Shacklebolt's study had dissolved into brilliant lights and colors, ever changing, flying past the group. The changing colors and shapes and rushing and movement made Harry nauseous. Harry tried to shout, but he couldn't hear his own voice. He couldn't hear Ginny's or Ron's or Luna's or Hermione's or Neville's either. Only the rushing roar. Eventually it seemed to slow down. Everything started focusing, and he found himself alone in the middle of a street. It was early morning. He looked around, but couldn't recognize anything. Then he glimpsed a house directly behind him. Harry looked past the gate, the garden, the door, and everything, and looked straight into the window. His father and mother sat on the couch, reading the paper together. His younger self was sitting at a table, making a fine mess out of a bowl of cereal. His throat closed up. Harry closed his eyes and quickly turned on his heel.

_Crack!_ Hogsmeade was as busy as it ever was. He pulled his collar up instinctively, but stopped. No one would recognize him. No one would gape at his scar. He relaxed a bit, and eased the door of the Hog's Head open. Luna, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione were already seated, and Neville was making his way towards them. Luna gave a wave, ushering him over. He sat.

"Where did you all end up?"

"Ginny and I landed in the forest right outside The Burrow."

Neville, Luna, and Hermione had also landed near their own houses.

"What about you, Harry?" asked Luna kindly.

"Godric's Hallow." She gave an understanding nod. Harry turned to the others, trying to forget the sight of his parents.

"Right. Neville, you're going to sneak into Hogwarts with the cloak, correct?" Neville nodded. "I have it with me."

"Alright. The rest of us are going to head out and send the notes and cast the Ferodius charm, as planned. Remember — meet back here at eleven. Oh, and Neville? Don't lose the cloak."

With a wry smile and a nod, Neville quietly took the cloak out, and when no one was looking, disappeared. The rest walked out of the pub and apparated away.

* * *

><p>Neville walked in the seventh floor corridor, and walked past a certain tapestry three times, thinking, "I need a blank room, with no magic. Something I can work with." Not to his surprise, a door appeared, and he quickly rushed into it, making sure no one saw him. He looked at the small room with white walls and white carpet. "I need what I declare to be the default for this room. No matter what anyone else says, what I say should overrule it."<p>

Neville felt the room agree to his request. He paced back and forth, remembering his seventh year with a grim smile. "I need this room to stop time, until I say, at midnight tonight. When I say, time should resume. I need to disable apparition in this room. I need this room to be able to easily answer someone else's wishes. I need this room to null all the Unforgiveable Curses, as well as the Reductor Curse, the Severing Charm, the Fire Conjuration Spell— " Neville kept pacing, going through the list of everything they had planned out, doubling checking everything as he went.

Eleven o' clock came. The six found themselves in the corner of The Hog's Head once more. "Is everything ready?" Harry asked, his wand clenched in his hand. After general consent, disillusionment and silencing charms were placed upon everyone, and Harry donned the cloak. Invisible, the group of six waited until someone opened the great doors of Hogwarts, and raced inside. Quietly and slowly, they made their way to the room Neville had created.

"Great job, Neville!" declared Harry, whipping off the cloak. "This is perfect!" They made themselves comfortable in the long white room. It was actually two rooms, divided by an invisible wall. The time travelers could see into the other room, but the other room could not see theirs. The readers would only see another wall. Anyone in the secret room could simply touch their hand to the invisible wall and appear in the other room, but again, not vice versa. All six time-travelers were utterly concealed, undetectable.

"What time is it, Hermione?" Harry asked anxiously. She didn't look up from the watch she was glaring at. "11:59 and twenty-one seconds." Harry closed his eyes, going over everything they had done, everything they had worked so intently for the past three months. It would be begin tonight. He looked around at his friends. "We can change everything," he muttered, and stared unwaveringly at the room where it would all change indeed.


	3. A Simple Scrap of Parchment

"The Potter Family has been summoned to read a book series detailing future events and the decisions that led to them. The persons of Harry, Lily, and James Potter have been chosen to participate because you play a significant part in the book, _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. _All needs will be provided for. Be prepared for departure at the stroke of midnight." The parchment had simply appeared in midair with a pop and floated to the living room carpet. Harry reached for it, giggling. James summoned it out of his hands, terrified of Dark Magic at work. Reading it out loud to Lily, neither could make any sense of the message. "What would Harry have to do with the Sorcerer's Stone? James, this is ridiculous! How did this scrap of parchment even appear here?" James could only shake his head. "This has to be a trap," he muttered, striding towards the fireplace. "We need to contact the Order."

* * *

><p>"The persons of Molly and Arthur Weasley have been summoned to read a book series detailing future events and the decisions that led to them. You both have been chosen to participate because you play a significant part in the book, <em>Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.<em>All needs will be provided for. Be prepared for departure at the stroke of midnight." Molly had been nearly hysterical ever since the parchment had floated upon the kitchen counter. "Arthur, this might be dark magic! We can't go anywhere, not with the war raging like this! The Death Eaters might have–"

"I know, Molly," Arthur tried to console his wife. "I have not the faintest idea of what this is all about. We'll simply wait and see, and prepare ourselves for whatever comes at midnight. Floo a few members of the Order to tell them what happened." Molly briskly walked to the fireplace. Throwing in the powder, she stuck her head in and said clearly, "The home of Lily and James Potter."

* * *

><p>Lucius Malfoy stared at the scraps of parchment as if each were Nagini, poised to strike. He apparently, played a significant part in <em>Chamber of Secrets<em>, while Narcissa and Draco had been summoned for _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows._ "Lucius," began Narcissa. "Why are these books titled Harry Potter? What does that boy have to do with anything?"

"Narcissa, I don't know. I don't understand."

Narcissa started trembling. "What will we do?" Lucius sat back and closed his eyes. "Let me think."

* * *

><p><em>Pop!<em> Peter let out a small shriek. Turning, he found only a piece of parchment resting on the floor at his feet. He moaned slowly and tried to calm his heart. "It will all be over after tomorrow," he muttered quietly to himself. But his heart sank. He knew, now more than ever, that is jumpiness just proved he was a traitor. But it was too late. He had made too many excuses about why he no longer lived with the Order at Grimmauld Place, like so many others had. He had told the Dark Lord where the Potter's were, and broken the Fidelius Charm. There was nothing left to do now, but wait. "Prisoner of Azkaban?" Peter murmured, looking at the title. Fear froze his heart. "Surely, not." Terrified, Pettigrew tried to put the note out of his mind, but he watched the clock anxiously all throughout the day.

* * *

><p>Remus watched Sirius pace back and forth at the Grimmauld Place headquarters. "The Prisoner of Azkaban, Remus? Who is that, and what does Harry have to do with it?" Remus was silent, pondering it over, until Sirius burst out in anger. "It doesn't make sense! It doesn't make sense at all! What would we have to do with Azkaban?" Remus shook his head. "I haven't an idea, Sirius."<p>

"It's a trap!"

"What makes you say that?" Remus asked wryly.

"Alice, Neville and I received one, too," came a voice. Frank Longbottom stood in the doorway. "I was coming down here to ask you about it, but I see you've been 'summoned' as well. What book do you have?" Remus stood and replied, "We both have _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_." Alice came up behind Frank, looking shaken. "We both have _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_."

"The Order?" cried Remus. Alice nodded, and both Remus and Sirius left to contact other members. She turned to Frank. "Do you. . . Do you think this has anything to do with the prophecy? It doesn't say _Neville Longbottom and the Order of the Phoenix_, does it? Do you. . . Do you think You-Know-Who will come after. . . Neville?" She was shaking. Frank pulled her into a hug. "Darling, this entire thing is absurd. I'm sure it's simply a trick or something. I'm sure Neville's fine."

* * *

><p>"Vernon!" Petunia shrieked. When he had arrived at the kitchen, she shakily pointed at the sheet of parchment that had landed upon the table. He seized it, his mustache shaking in anger. "You have been chosen to participate because you play a significant part in the book, <em>Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire<em>," it read. His face drained of all color. "Petunia, darling?" Vernon tried to keep his voice steady. "What is the name of your sisters' son again?" Petunia's eyes widened. "Potter. His name is Harry Potter," she said, while reaching out for the note. Continuing to hold Dudley, she read it over his fat shoulder. "Vernon, what shall we do?" she cried. With resolution Vernon replied, "What shall we do? Why nothing! Nothing at all! We are not going and that's final!"

* * *

><p>Amos Diggory stared curiously at the parchment. "Goblet of Fire?" he mused. <em>The future? How can this tell the future? What type of joke is this?<em> He hadn't told his wife. She worried enough already, with the war as it was. It would do no good to tell her about the note. Amos sat in his study in silence. _I guess there's nothing to be done about it except wait for midnight_. He scowled, and went downstairs for a late dinner, musing things over. His wand was close by all throughout dinner.

* * *

><p>"You have been chosen to participate because you play a significant part in the book, <em>Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince<em>." Dumbledore gazed at the strange piece of parchment. Written in deep blue ink, it had appeared with a pop in his study, where he had been previously enjoying the evening. "The Half-Blood Prince?" he wondered. He stood and gazed out the window. The "Half-Blood Prince" was a title unknown to him. The name "Harry Potter" was not. He paused for a moment and then turned on his heel. With a crack, Dumbledore was gone.

* * *

><p>Snape looked out the window at the moon, glowing bright in the night. A small <em>pop<em> interrupted his reverie. He dropped the note as if it burned when he read the title. _Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. _What did Potter's son have to do with him? Nothing at all! But his heart sunk. _This has something do to with the prophecy_. Snape trembled with rage. He would confront whoever sent the note. He kept his wand close by and waited for the few hours until midnight.

* * *

><p>McGonagall had been enjoying a relaxing evening when the curious note appeared. Hearing the pop, she instantly reached out for her wand on the bedside table. She looked around cautiously, and saw a slip of parchment slowly floating down. Putting her book aside, she read the note twice. "The Half-Blood Prince?" she cried. "What is this?" She sat for a second, searching her memory. Eventually, she warily got out of bed and shuffled downstairs towards the fireplace. McGonagall reached her head in and stated, "Grimmauld Place."<p>

* * *

><p>Hearing the pop, the three wizards immediately whirled around, wands out.<p>

"Stupefy!"

"Petrificus Totalus!"

"Stupefy!"

It was merely a piece of parchment, however, that had so disturbed the Tonks house. A stunning spell had singed two edges of it, but it had floated down unharmed. Ted summoned it and a strange expression overtook his face. "Nymphadora?" he asked. "What do you know about the Deathly Hallows?" At that moment, Remus Lupin's head appeared in the fireplace. "Remus!" Andromeda cried.

* * *

><p>Had any of the invitees looked outside, they would have seen a shadowed figure outside their home; the same figure who had caused these slips of parchment to appear inside their homes. But, no, they weren't there long. Many things had to be done. Three people per book. That was what had been planned. Harry, Lily, and James. Molly, Arthur, and Lucius. Sirius, Remus, and Peter. Diggory and the Dursley's. The Longbottom family. Snape, Dumbledore, and McGonagall. And young Draco Malfoy with Narcissa and Tonks. It was a large group, with varying backgrounds and opinions. One could only hope that they would figure something out. The figure turned and, with a quiet crack, disappeared in the night.<p> 


	4. Chaos and Confusion

**A/N: I _huge_ thanks to all my wonderful reviewers: inluvwitheverythingpotters, Analie209, poplip, BARON2462, and Disney-Princess-In-Disguise. Thank you so much for all your thoughts! I really appreciate it! If you have any suggestions or questions, please let me know! =)**

Eleven o' clock at Grimmauld Place brought fourteen extremely tense wizards together. Everyone arrived as soon as they could, and the panic began.

"What should we do?"

"Who started this?"

"What about the Order?"

"What time did you get yours?"

"What's going to happen?"

"Death Eaters! Death Eaters, I tell you!"

The uproar was so great, no one noticed little Harry wailing except Lily. Lily walked over to where he rest in the corner, and tried to calm him but to no avail. Dumbledore sat at the table in the middle of the ruckus. Trying desperately to think, he had his eyes closed, two fingers to each temple. The ruckus continued, getting louder and louder. Little Neville started wailing, too. Finally, the Headmaster had had enough. "Silence!" he bellowed. So uncharacteristic was this outburst from Dumbledore, who always seemed the image of serenity, silence immediately was granted. "Everyone sit. Conjure more chairs. We must have organization if we are to figure this out." The Order gathered around the table, but the room was buzzing with tension. Dumbledore glanced at the clock. 10:45.

"Now," Dumbledore began. "I'm assuming everyone in here received a summons to read this book series?" Nods and a chorus of agreement around the room. "Let's make a list of the titles," he sighed. Minerva quickly conjured a quill and parchment. James spoke first. "Harry, Lily and I received a summons for _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_." Minerva jotted the information down. Tonks spoke up. "I was sent a scrap of parchment. For _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_." Dumbledore was quiet while Minerva wrote this down as well. Frank stood. "The three of us, Alice, Neville, and I, have _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix._" Voices erupted around the room. "Minerva, did you write that down?" asked Dumbledore wearily. The group quieted. Minerva nodded. "Sorcerer's Stone, Deathly Hallows, Order of the Phoenix, and who received each."

After a moment of silence, Remus stood. "Sirius and I-" he began. Sirius stood quicker. "We both got Prisoner of Azkaban. I mean, _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_. So did Peter." Peter sat pale and shaking next to Sirius, and gave a small nod. Quite a few witches and wizards were startled at the mention of the prison, Peter looking even more nervous. A few snuck glances at Harry, sleeping in the corner, and wondered how in the world an innocent boy could be mixed up with such a grisly place. Around the circle they went, adding Molly and Arthur Weasley's _Chamber of Secrets_ and McGonagall's and Dumbledore's _Half-Blood Prince_.

"Six books," stated Dumbledore. "Does anyone know anything about any of this? We all know of Azkaban and the Order. The Half-Blood Prince?" There was a pondering silence, broken by McGonagall. "Surely, Albus, the titles are interesting. But, the real question is who sent this? You can hardly call it an accident! And what's their intentions?" A dark atmosphere filled the room, made more ominous when a grandfather clock struck 11 o' clock somewhere in the house. "We are living in dark times," began Dumbledore. "Voldemort is rising. We cannot assume whoever sent these have good intentions. We must make ourselves ready for midnight, when, I'm sure, something _will_ happen."

"Are we going to stay here, together?"

"Do you think they'll attack?"

"So you do think it's Death Eaters?"

"What about Harry? What about Neville?"

Dumbledore held up a hand, asking for quiet once more. It went unheeded only by Sirius. "Why are all these books about Harry?" he challenged. The one question no one had dared guess. Dumbledore glanced at the Longbottom's, the only other couple besides the Potter's to know of the prophecy. Frank's face was unreadable, and he held Neville firmly, if rather shakily. Alice was rather pale, but her head was raised high. "The book titles being about Harry do seem to indicate he is alive. This may be for many reasons. There may not even be such a book series. We must take everything into account."

And the questions began again.

* * *

><p>Severus Snape sat smoldering in his armchair. His eyes were narrowed, and he abruptly stood and peered out the window. All was quiet. He began to pace, quietly fuming. He paused only to examine the clock. Half an hour until midnight. He sat down again, only to get back up in a few minutes, and continue pacing. Everything inside his was tumbling around. <em>Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince<em>. As if he and Potter had anything in common. He was still for a moment, imagining the boy. He must be a year old now. He closed his eyes, and pictured Lily. Her auburn hair, her bright green eyes. "Perhaps the boy will look like her," he murmured. Her vivid spirit and loving nature. For a moment, and only a moment, Snape could remember clearly those days before everything fell apart. The two sitting by the lake, racing through the halls, talking under the stars.

Snape's dream was interrupted with reality. Lily was not his. She never would be. She was Potter's. The pain was still fresh. It was always with him, reminding him of the day his friendship with Lily shattered, the day they James and Lily married, they day he realized the Potter's fit the prophecy as well as the Longbottom's. Potter. So arrogant and cruel. He had been so lucky to receive the home and care that Snape never got. And he abused it. Potter tormented him, and Snape would never forget. He glared at the clock again, daring it to slow. It hadn't. 11:45.

* * *

><p>Lucius sat on the couch, holding Narcissa's hand. Draco slept peacefully in the crook of Narcissa's other arm, a tuft of near white hair poking through. "Lucius," Narcissa whispered.<p>

"Yes, my love?"

Narcissa paused. "We should probably get ready." After much argument, the two had decided to take the offensive. Putting as many enchantments around their manor as they could, they laid and wait for midnight. Draco quietly was placed on the sofa, hidden under blankets and magical protection. The two Malfoy's took up their wands, ready. Lucius walked towards the large, glass window, looking for any sign of movement. Narcissa stared at the door, a look of deathly concentration on her face. Ten minutes.

* * *

><p>Vernon lay, snoring heavily. Only Petunia lay awake in the Dursley house. She continually glanced at her alarm clock. 11:55. Five minutes. She sat up, restless, careful not to wake Vernon. This had something to do with her sister, she knew. Not only because her nephew's name was mentioned, but because . . . her kind always did strange things like this. Three minutes. She peered out the window. The street was empty, but her mind couldn't rest.<p>

* * *

><p>Diggory stood awake, his wife peacefully sleeping beside him. He peered out the window, wand out, ready in the case of attack. The Death Eater's had left his area untouched and sending a strange note was not their way. The murderers would abruptly barge into someone's house and leave quickly, the Dark Mark hovering above the victim's home. His gaze swept the sky, and he glanced at his clock.<p>

Midnight.


	5. And the Clock Struck Midnight

At the stroke of midnight, twenty-one people, both young and old, felt a tug behind their navels. The world swirled around them, the few cries and shouts dying behind them. Their feet hit solid ground. Few took note of the room. It was a large, empty room, with white walls and carpet, completely unremarkable. Most looked instantly at the other wizards, recognizing faces, and the shouts begun.

"Stupefy!"

"Expelliarmus!"

"Petrificus Totalus!"

"Crucio!"

Jets of light flew across the room, until Narcissa screamed. "Stop! Please, stop! Don't hurt Draco! He's only a child!" Dumbledore shouted into the chaos, "Finite Incantatum!" The jets of light disappeared.

"Everyone cease! We have children in this room!" he bellowed. The only sound was now Narcissa's weeping and Neville's wailing. James ran over to Lily, a look of unmatched fury on his face. Sirius, his face contorted with rage, stood next to a shaking Remus. Both had their wands trained on Snape, and Dumbledore gave the three a dangerous warning look. Lucius, tightly gripping his wand, stood in front of his wife and child, looking mutinous. Petunia Dursley sat in shock in a corner, while Vernon trembled, his face white. Neither made a sound. The room seemed likely to crumble down from the sheer emotion in the room. Alice was pale and Amos looked ready to pass out. Peter was glancing between Sirus and Remus and Snape looking ready to fall apart from nerves. Dumbledore took the initiative.

"We have children here," he repeated. "For the sake of the innocent, no more spells will be cast. Wands down!" And, slowly, reluctantly, wands were around the room. "If you would be so kind, Lucius?" Dumbledore's blue eyes were cold. "No one will harm your child." Lucius glared at Dumbledore. 'Why are we here?" Lucius cried. "Why the secrecy and why take the child?" "We didn't do this!" shouted Sirius. Harry began to cry, and Lily began to tersely rock him. Dumbledore glanced at Snape. He seemed to have just realized Lily's presence. His face showed no emotion, but Dumbledore knew her presence shocked him. Dumbledore remembered the night Snape had come to him in near hysterics, pleading for him to keep Lily safe.

It was at this point that Lily saw Petunia. "Petunia!" she shrieked. Petunia began to cry. "Don't come near me! Don't hurt me!" James grabbed Lily and pulled her back, and the room was silent. "Petunia, I would never hurt you." "Leave us alone!" Vernon cried, face red. "Go away!" Lily's temper began to rise. "Where? Where would you like me to go? We're all stuck here! I know no more of this than you do." Petunia shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "I don't. . . I don't trust you." The room was silent. "Lily," began Sirius tentatively. "Is this. . . Is this your _sister_?" Lily nodded, keeping her eyes on Petunia, who looked petrified.

Remus sat cross legged on the floor, despite the near electricity in the air. "Everyone, please sit down. I'm taking it everyone received a slip of parchment. We must figure this out." Snape made his way over to Lucius, and started hurriedly whispering in his ear. Petunia clung to Vernon. Eventually, all sat, wands clenched in their hands. "Minerva, do you still have the list?" asked Arthur. She shook her head. "No, but we can write it out again."

At that moment, a loud crack resounded in the midst of the group and a cascade of books fell from midair into a heap on the floor. "No one move!" cried Dumbledore. He surveyed the stack. "Accio _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_!" A book on the bottom of the pile wriggled its way out, and flew into Dumbledore's hand. A boy was reaching up for something in an orange background. On the spine glistened a gold number seven. "Ah!" His eyes widened. "They are numbered!" And the clamber began.

"Order of the Phoenix is fifth!"

"The first is Sorcerer's Stone!"

"Here, lie them in the center of the floor!"

Witches and wizards started grabbing books, and yelling out things on the cover.

"Dumbledore! I do believe you're on the cover of the sixth!"

"I want to see!"

"Is that a boy riding a hippogriff?"

"Let me have it, Malfoy!"

"Silence! Silence, please!" McGonagall called above the chaos, waving the list. Gradually, the din died down. "Dumbledore, you said the first book was _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_?" Dumbledore gave a courteous nod. "What is the second book?" "Chamber of Secrets!" called out Molly. Slowly, and surely, the list was recreated, with little to no help on the part of the Death Eaters and the Dursley's. Three witches and wizards to a book. Twenty-one in all.

"Albus, I suppose we should begin reading? We will be missed, I'm sure." Dumbledore reached for the first book. "_Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_," he mused. As he read the back quickly, many cast looks over at Harry, curled up between his mother and father. He slept on, oblivious. James swiped a thick black lock of hair out of his face, and gazed at the crowd defiantly. Snape and the Malfoy's sat together in the far corner, trying to separate themselves as far as physically possible from the Order.

Another pop sounded. A sheet of parchment dropped from midair and neatly settled down on the floor. Narcissa, who was closest, snatched it and read aloud. "The twenty-one of you have been brought to this room to read these books and determine which actions should be taken afterwards. Time has stopped in this room, so have no worries about returning quickly to reality. Food, drinks, and other items will appear upon wishing for it. To contact me, simply write something on a piece of parchment and tap it with your wand, saying 'Portaria!' I will be keeping in touch. I'm sure these books' contents will surprise you: this story is immensely complex. I understand that not all in this room get along perfectly. As you will find in these books, not everything is as it seems. Remember this before acting rashly. I wish you the best of luck."

"Acting rashly," Sirius snorted. "A few less Death Eaters in the world wouldn't be any loss." Snape whirled and cast a nonverbal spell at Sirius, who dodged. It missed by an inch. "Expelliarmus!" cried James. Snape's wand dropped at the same moment Lucius rose and shouted, "Confringo!"

"Protego!"

The light went around Sirius' shield charm and let a scorch mark on the wall.

"Diffindo!"

"Levicorpus!"

"Stupefy!"

"Sectumsempra!" A shriek sounded from a corner. Lily stood over Harry, blood pouring from gashes on her shoulder. "Stop!" screamed Snape. "Finite Incantatem!" The duelers froze at the terror in his voice, and tried to sort out what had happened in the confusion.

"Lily!" James ran across the room, shoving everyone out of his way. His eyes fell upon Snape. "Get away from her!" James cried savagely. James lunged towards Snape, murder glistening in his eyes. "Impedimenta!" James seemed to slow in midair. "Petrificus Totalus!" James froze. Snape turned towards Lily, fearful. "I know the counter curse. Please, let me help you." "Sirius, take Harry," Lily managed to gasp out. Blood covered his blanket. Sirius ran and quickly took his godson, not taking his eyes off Snape. "Vulnera Sanentur. Vulnera Sanentur!" Every time Snape repeated the spell, the flow of blood eased, and eventually stopped.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. Lily ignored him. "Tergeo!" she said. The blood began disappearing from her arm. She stood and looked Snape in the eye. "Never again." Dumbledore pointed his wand towards James, who had his fingers outstretched towards Snape's throat. "Finite." James stumbled and caught himself. He stood, torn between the desire to rip out Snape's throat and attend to his wife. "James," warned Dumbledore, taking a step forward. James wrenched his gaze away from Snape and walked towards Lily.

Dumbledore turned towards Snape, Lucius and Narcissa. "While I cannot condone your support for Voldemort, I understand that no more of these fights can break out. Next time it might hit Neville, Harry, or Draco, and I doubt they can lose as much blood as Lily did." Dumbledore looked everyone in the eye, making sure they understood. "For the time being, we must put aside our differences and try to make it out of here." Lucius nodded begrudgingly, and Sirius lowered his wand. Dumbledore continued. "Now, who would like to begin the first chapter?"


	6. The Boy Who Lived

**A/N: The reason I'm updating so quickly is that I've had all this and more written before I even published the prologue. Thank you to Disney-Princess-In-Disguise, DeliaDee, poplip, AngelofSatire, and loretta537 for your wonderful comments and suggestions. I want to know what you guys think! =) I tried to not make it like running commentary like some fics, but I want to make sure I spent enough time equally between all the characters and all the drama. Let me know! Thank you so much!**

**Edit: A massive thanks to Writer Sage for spotting what I overlooked. =)**

As a great clamor arose, Petunia subtly wove her way towards Lily, who was sitting down with Harry on her lap. "Lily. . . are you okay?" she asked stiffly. Lily glanced at her sister and gave her a weak smile. "I'm fine, Petunia." Petunia paused. "That man. . . who healed your arm? Is that Severus? From when we were little?" They both looked across the room at Snape, who was arguing with the others. "It is." The two sisters stared at one another. Petunia's eye fell upon the white scars on Lily's shoulder, and she abruptly turned and walked back to Vernon, who was intently watching the entire conversation.

"So, even if we are going to read these books, then who's going to start?" demanded Sirius. "Lily and I were supposed to read it, I think. You up to it?" James asked his wife. "You can go ahead," Lily replied. The group gathered in front of James, who sat cross legged on the floor. "Sorcerer's Stone, eh?" He cracked open the book. "It's just a normal book, Padfoot! See?" He held it up tauntingly towards Sirius, who muttered something in his defense.

James began. "Chapter One's called the Boy Who Lived." An uncomfortable silence filled the room. "Well," James tried to put on a confident smile. "Let's get to it. **Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet drive, were proud to say they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they–**

"Is that you two?" asked Narcissa curtly. Vernon gave a wary nod. "Muggles?" she shrieked. A look of dawning horror overtook her face. Lucius snarled, and clutched his wand. Vernon appeared flustered. "See here, now! I have no idea what a muggle is, but I do know that every single person in the room is an absolute lunatic! And what do you plan to do with that?" he mockingly asked Lucius Malfoy, gesturing towards his wand. Petunia's eyes widened, and she quickly drew Vernon away. While Petunia whispered fearfully and hurriedly to a belligerent Vernon, Lily stepped towards Narcissa. "You will not touch them, Narcissa," she said quietly. Narcissa looked like a painful curse was on the very tip of her tongue, but suppressed it. She knew that another duel risked Draco's life and Lily knew it as well.

"Vernon! Did you not see the fight earlier?" Petunia was beginning to panic, trying to keep her voice down in the corner. "A few jets of light!" insisted Vernon. "One of which almost sliced her arm to ribbons!" Petunia realized how loud her voice was getting, and spoke in a rushed whisper. "Vernon, you don't understand. This isn't something we can simply shrug off like we always have! I've always thought magic was a freakish, amusing pastime. Vernon, those spells or whatever they are might be able to kill us!" Vernon listened to Petunia in obvious disbelief. "Nonsense. This whole thing is insane and I think we should best leave!" Petunia shook her head, and clutched her husband's arm. "Vernon, I don't think we can. My sister doesn't seem to be able to get out, and she's a. . . "Petunia paused and took a deep breath. "We should wait. Let's wait, see what the first chapter is about, and then I'll talk to. . . Lily. I'll talk to Lily and see if we can get out of here." Vernon begrudgingly agreed.

While the Dursley's had been conversing, James had begun to read again, hoping to relieve a bit of the tension. **As Mr. Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive – no,**_**looking**_**at the sign; cats couldn't read maps**_**or**_**signs.** James stopped, thinking back to his transfiguration classes. "Professor, do you think that's you? In the books?" McGonagall simply replied, "It appears to be."

Sirius was scowling. "It doesn't make any sense. If the book is about Harry, then why are these two, so far, the main characters?" "Dunno," said James quietly. He continued reading. The Dursley's remained quiet, but looked deeply unsettled at how much attention they were already receiving in the first book.

When James got to the part about owls swooping around Mr. Dursley's office, the room broke out into conversation. "Owls? Listen to how many owls are swooping about!" cried Amos. "To be in broad daylight! What must have happened?" Tonks asked Remus, who was sitting next to her. James quickly and silently read ahead, and gave a cry of surprise. "Harry! Lily, he chose Harry!"

The room quieted. James voice shook. "Listen! Listen! **This bunch were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin. It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying. "The Potters, that's right, that's what I heard–"** James voice became strained. **"–yes, their son, Harry–"**James stopped reading, breaking off into thought as the speculation continued. Lily walked over with Harry, and sat next to James with Harry in her lap. "Keep reading. It'll be alright."

James shook his head but continued telling of Mr. Dursley's day, and how, eventually, he bumped into a wizard. **He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passersby stare, "Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me to–**** " **James' voice trailed off, ending with a loud whoop of joy. He instantly dropped the book and took Lily's hands and spun her in circles. Everyone, Lily especially, was amazed at James' reaction. "James?" Lily laughed. "What is it?"

"He's gone!"

James looked like a schoolboy on his first summer break. His eyes were absolutely glowing, and his grin only grew wider. "He's gone! He's gone!" "You don't mean–?" McGonagall gasped, her eyes shining with joy. James dropped his bewildered wife's hands and almost began leaping around the room. "Yes! Yes!" he shouted, "You-Know-Who's gone! He's _gone_!"

Screams and shrieks of joy went around the room. Sirius began jumping around like James, pumping his fist in the air. "Yes, yes, yes! YES!" Frank Longbottom took Alice in his arms and gave her a passionate kiss. Molly began weeping and Arthur sat dumbfounded, very much like the Dursley's. Amos Diggory was laughing and McGonagall was simply looking around the room in happy disbelief.

Tonks' hair changed to a brilliant lime green to a dark purple to a burnt orange as she celebrated with rest. Lucius and his wife looked shell-shocked, while Snape's expression was impassive. No one noticed Dumbledore, sitting quietly, or Peter Pettigrew, who was looking around as if wishing a magical escape hatch would open at his feet.

Remus snatched the book, waving it above his head, and yelled above the celebration. "Do you all want to know what happened or do you want to keep partying?" "Keep partying!" James yelled back. McGonagall, still smiling, shook her head. "While I understand your enthusiasm, Potter, I think it best to discover _why_ He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is gone at least." James tried to look upset, but his grin betrayed him. Still holding hands with Lily, he sat next to the book. Everyone slowly sat down.

James read aloud how Mr. Dursley had come home. Vernon listened to all this intently, holding Petunia's hand rather nervously.**The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look. Was this normal cat behavior?** He paused and smiled at McGonagall, and continued the book. In the book, Mr. Dursley learned on the news of all the strange happenings, and asked Petunia about their nephew's name. Petunia declared it to be the nasty, common name of Harry. Snape gave a small smirk, unnoticed by anyone. Lily looked conflicted at Petunia's remark in the novel, but kept silent. Petunia paled, wondering what all this had to do with her. _If_it had anything to do with her.

**A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed. Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive.** James read out the description of the man they all knew so well. **This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.** All the witches and wizards were impressed with Dumbledore's "Put-Outer," and Arthur Weasley even asked to see it. Dumbledore smiled kindly, and shook his head. "I think it best to continue reading. James, if you please."

The group grew tenser and tenser as they listened to McGonagall's and Dumbledore's conversation at Privet Drive. James' voice grew quieter and quieter.**"The owls are nothing next to the**_**rumors**_**that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"** James' slowly read the fictional McGonagall's next words. **"What they're**_**saying**__**," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow**_**_."_**James Potter paled and Lily looked up in alarm. James shakily let go of Lily's hand and clutched the book. He spewed out the next words. **"He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are – are – that they're – dead."** He slowly lowered the book, a look of shock on his face.

He whipped his head towards Dumbledore, who eyes were filled with sympathy. "Dumbledore, please tell me it's not true," he pleaded. Dumbledore simply shook his head. "James, I don't know. Anything may have happened." Lily lowered her head, hair hiding her face. Everyone struggled to hold back tears, out of respect for the Potters, but to everyone's shock, it was Petunia who burst out weeping first.

Molly joined Petunia soon after, quickly followed by Alice. Vernon and Frank and Arthur tried to comfort their weeping wives, all looking quite grim. Lupin held his head in his hands. Sirius struggled to say something for a moment, but turned and unleashed his anger onto a nearby wall. The wall absorbed the blow, but didn't move as Sirius leaned his head against it and remained silent. The Malfoy's seemed indifferent, almost triumphant. Peter stood stock still, while Snape was struggling to regain his composure, which grief was tearing apart.

Tonks surveyed the scene. Desperate for something to do, she recalled the note. _Food, drinks, and other items will appear upon wishing for it._ She closed her eyes and quietly said, "I wish for some tea." A steaming stream of tea poured from nowhere and began pooling on the floor by her side. "No, that's not what I meant! I wish the tea would go away!" It vanished. "I wish for a kitchen," she began. The room expanded to twice its length, and she ushered into the new, tiled area. She went through the cupboards, and began heating water on a pot.

Five minutes later, she handed both Molly and Alice a warm cup of tea. They took it gratefully. Tonks cautiously turned to Petunia, who adamantly refused anything made by magic. Tonks took the tea instead to Lily. James was holding her tightly, repeating, "I'm sorry, it'll be okay, I'm so sorry, Lily, I'm sorry, it'll be okay."

Dumbledore, looking grieved, waved his hand for silence. "I know this news is upsetting. Lily and James, I'm deeply sorry. However, we will have the opportunity to change the outcome of events. And, if I may remind you, there seems to be seven books about little Harry's adventures. You-Know-Who has gone at last. Remember our celebration." These reminders brightened the mood considerably.

James continued reading, and once again the McGonagall on Privet Drive revealed a shocking revelation. Weary with emotion, James read out, **"That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry. But – he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke – and that's why he's gone."**

James looked down at his son in love and admiration. "My son defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," he whispered in awe. Harry was fast asleep, clutching his blue blanket, yet had captured the attention of the entire room. "That little boy? Little Harry Potter? Defeat You-Know Who?" asked McGonagall in shock.

At everyone's urging, James continued the book. Unseen, Lucius was staring at Harry, while Narcissa simply hung her head in defeat. James Potter read uninterrupted until Dumbledore announced his decision to leave Harry with the Dursley's.

"You can't be serious!" Vernon blustered from the corner. "That . . . boy? Live with us! Absolutely not!" Sirius jumped to his feet. " 'Absolutely not?' That boy is my godson! He is a hero! He will be going down in history! As Professor McGonagall said, he may very well have a holiday created in his honor!"

"At least you're alive, Petunia," Lily said quietly. The reminder cooled the atmosphere. Sirius continued in a much more reasonable tone, "Dumbledore, why on heaven or earth should Harry be forced to live with the Dursley's? Why can't he stay with me? I'm his godfather!"

"Sirius, I'm sure we'll find out shortly. I assure you, I have only Harry's best interests at heart. James, again, please continue." James relayed Dumbledore's reasoning and McGonagall's horror at leaving Harry with the Dursley's. He seemed touched at Hagrid's display of affection for his newly orphaned son. And, he seemed torn between awe and disgust at his son's interesting scar.

And so, he slowly read the last line. **He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter – the boy who lived!"**

"And that, thank God," James stated, closing the book, "is the end of the first chapter."


	7. Behind the Wall

**A/N: Finally! So sorry for the long wait. I edited this to death and back, but I figured it was time for an update. =) Enjoy! Please let me know what you think: suggestions, questions, or comments!**

Midnight on October 31, 1980 found a second Harry Potter staring restlessly into an empty room. "Midnight!" declared Hermione. She looked up from her magical watch and saw, just in time, a large group of people stagger into the room. "It worked!" cried Luna with delight."You did a bang up job with that charm, 'Mione!" Ron declared. Hermione looked very pleased indeed.

And then the spells started firing. "Neville, you blocked all the Unforgivables, right?" Harry asked nervously. "Yeah, I did." Neville scowled, double checking. "I did." He gave Harry a confident nod. But the argument was over as soon as it began. The group relaxed slightly and prepared to watch the evening unfold. Dumbledore had, predictably, taken charge. Harry began pacing, glancing nervously at the room. Dumbledore was speaking pointedly to Lucius. "This'll be okay, right? They can't hurt each other too bad. Everything should be fine, right?" He looked to Ginny for encouragement.

"_Yes_," she repiled. "We've thought this out and planned this, Harry. It will be alright." Harry nervously sat down beside his wife.

"Petunia!" he heard his mother shout. Harry took in the sight of his mum. He was twenty-eight years old, yet the grief of losing his mother to Voldemort had been only dulled. It was so _strange_ to see her alive, not simply moving in a few simple motions as in the magical photographs he had. He sat, entranced. _I do have her eyes_, Harry thought. They were green and filled with life. As she spoke to her sister, they held grief and frustration as well.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted by Hermione. "Here, we'll start with the seventh," Hermione instructed, reaching for _Deathly Hallows. _She piled the books rapidly, having memorized the covers over the past few months. "Alright, we ready?" she glanced into the room, seeing Lily still talking with Petunia. "Portaria!"she declared, pointing her wand at the stack. Immediately, they appeared in the other room, falling to the floor.

"Alright, now for the note," Neville reminded them. "You have it, Ron?" Ron searched in his pockets, and brought forth the note, slightly crumpled. He handed it over to Neville sheepishly.

"Read it aloud, one more time, Neville?" Luna asked. And he did.

"It sounds good," Ginny agreed.

"Should we send it now?" asked Hermione briskly, wand at the ready.

"No . . . let's wait a second," Harry decided.

They watched the readers gather themselves together, figuring out who was summoned for each book. Harry was simply trying to take it all in. His mum and dad were here. So was Sirius. Dumbledore. And Tonks. And Lupin. It had been so terribly long.

"I think now's a good time." Hermione glanced at the others quickly and once again cast the Portarius spell. It was Narcissa who read it to the group. Harry just barely heard Sirius' reponse: "Acting rashly. A few less Death Eaters in the world wouldn't be any loss. " Harry's stomach drop as another skirmish broke out.

"Confringo!"

"Protego!"

"Diffindo!"

"Levicorpus!"

"Stupefy!"

The six stood near from the wall, watching avidly, ready to intervene in a moment's notice. Harry began, "Hermione, I don't think this was a good—" and stopped. He gazed at Snape's face, twisted with anger and hatred and knew what spell would pour out of the professor's mouth half a second before it did.

"No!" Harry shouted.

"Sectumsempra!" Snape seemingly bellowed in reply.

Harry watched in horror as blood gushed from his mother's shoulder. He charged the wall, barely held back by Ron and Neville. "Let me go!" he shouted. "She's hurt! I have to help her!" Ron, while struggling to hold Harry back, grunted out, "She's fine! Snape's healing her. She's _fine, _mate!"

Quite upset, Harry watched as the blood disappeared from his mother's arm. He watched Snape very carefully, and could see the love and regret and sorrow in his face. It stopped him dead in his tracks. Harry vividly remembered his last trip into a Pensieve during the Battle of Hogwarts. As unsettled as he was by Snape's love for his mom in the memory, he was completely thrown off balance seeing it written all over his face.

Calm began to return in both rooms. "That's it," Harry said determinedly. "No magic. None at all." Hermione shifted uneasily. "Harry, we talked about this, remember?" At first they tried to figure out a way to take away the wands of the readers, but at Hermione's urging had decided to only block the Unforgiveables.

"We know they're going to freak out," Hermione had argued, referring to the readers. "They have been summoned in the middle of a war to some strange place at midnight. They appear there, see some of their most hated enemies, and don't have a wand to defend themselves. They're not going to notice that the other person doesn't have a wand. It's just going to be one big mess of self preservation! We can block all the Unforgivables and other dangerous curses so no one gets seriously hurt, but it might do some good if they felt a bit more in control and could get out a bit of their emotion. We'll be right there, and I don't think any serious damage would be done."

That became what they agreed upon. They had given the list of spells to Neville. Harry realized now, with a groan, which one they had neglected.

"I know, Hermione, I know. They've already dueled, though. It seemed like a good idea, but we can't. There's too much hate and something is bound to happen." Hermione looked to the others for support. Neville was silent, but Ron stepped up. "Hermione, think about it in Harry's shoes for a moment. His mum just got sliced up by Snape. It's not that unreasonable a request."

Hermione was dismayed, but turned to Neville. "Alright," she sighed. Neville chose his words carefully and spoke, "I wish that, in the readers' room, all wands' magic be disabled until I say." He felt the room's magic for any loopholes, and when satisfied, nodded to Harry.

The group sat down on the floor, and watched the argument. Harry saw his father grab the first book and sit down. Everyone tensed as they heard Narcissa shriek, "Muggles?" and Harry tried to listen in to the Dursley's conversation. No one had died yet, so everything seemed to be going okay.

He glanced at Neville, who was avidly following his parents. Ginny and Ron were watching Molly and Arthur as well. "Look how much hair Dad has!" Ron exclaimed. "Ron!" Hermione scolded. Ginny could hardly hide her smile. Harry turned to Luna sitting behind him. "You okay?" he asked. She nodded. "I'm okay, Harry," she said softly. Seeing the look on his face, she explained less softly, "It was my decision. I _asked_ that my father not come. I'm okay." Harry, seeing her smile, turned back to watch the others in the room.

He saw a sudden movement out of the corner of his eye. His father and mother were spinning in circles in the middle of the crowd. "What on earth?" Harry asked in amusement. Hermione, who had been watching closely the whole time, explained. "They discovered that You-Know-Who's gone."

Harry gave a smile and tried to listen in but could barely hear anything. "Neville, can we hear what's going on in there?" Neville quickly asked the room for such and he heard his father's voice jarringly clear despite the wall: "You-Know-Who's gone! He's _gone_!"

The room turned to uproar and Harry's heart swelled. _Everyone's so happy. They're so excited,_ he thought. He knew it wouldn't last but it touched him to see all these faces, not only alive but celebrating.

Hermione grinned and suppressed a yawn. She set off to set up the room for tonight, and Neville, Luna, and Ron followed.

Lupin, true to his nature, was the first to act sensible. "Do you all want to know what happened or do you want to keep partying?" he reprimanded the crowd. With a grin, Harry listened to his father's rebellious response: "Keep partying!"

_I l__ook just like him, _Harry thought. He noticed the black mess of hair and the thin frame and round glasses and felt almost like he was looking in a mirror. His heart felt ready to burst: his parents stood before him. They were alive. They were moving and speaking and smiling and laughing and thinking. They were real. Once or twice, they even looked his way.

Harry felt his heart stop. _They're so close,_ he thought. It would take four steps to stand and walk through the glass and feel his parents' embrace, and see their smiles and tears up close and talk to them. Talk to them about everything. Know that they were here for him and _loved_ him. All the things he never had all his life because of one person. It would take four steps.

But he couldn't. He knew he couldn't. He had to sit behind a wall of glass and listen to their voices. He could only watch them talk with other people and smile at other people and hug other people, completely unaware their grown son, who didn't even remember them, was watching them, heart-broken.

He remembered seeing them both for the first time in the Mirror of Erised. He remembered listening to his parents in the graveyard. He remembered watching both his parents in the pensieve. And he remembered talking with their spirits as he walked to his death, ten years ago.

But they wouldn't remember all that. It hadn't happened. They hadn't died, but lived on, and Harry couldn't grasp that in his mind. _They're so close. _He felt a hand on his shoulder and started forward.

"Harry?" Ginny said quietly. "Are you okay?"

Harry couldn't speak, and Ginny understood. She held his hand and sat by his side, listening and watching his parents with him.

"It hurts," Harry managed to say. "They're right there. I could touch them, if I wanted to. It would take three seconds." He paused and Ginny let him continue. "But I know I can't. I just want to so bad."

"My parents have always been there for me. I can't imagine what it would be like if they were never there for me, if I never had any memory of them. I'm sorry, Harry. I am. I wish I could understand, but I can't."

Harry and Ginny Potter sat together for a few minutes, and Ginny finally spoke. "Harry, they'll be here for awhile. You can see them again. Let's go, okay?" And Harry went with her, the memory of his parents sitting together still burning in his mind.

Hermione had already created a space for everyone and Ron and Hermione, Neville and Luna were sitting on their beds, chatting and keeping an eye on the readers in the other room. "Hey, Harry!" Neville said brightly over the hum of activity in the other room. "Hey, Neville," Harry said with a smile. He sat down on the four poster next to Ginny, and asked "What time is it?" Hermione glanced at her watch. "It's about 12:45. It's getting late."

She glanced into the other room. "I bet they're going to finish this chapter and get some sleep." Harry nodded. Sleep sounded very good right now. It had been an eventful day and he was tired. "I wonder what they'll say when they find out all the trouble Harry gets into," Ron asked with grin.

Harry chuckled. "We sure managed to get into a few scrapes every now and then, didn't we Ron? Kept life interesting."

"Remember the days of Dumbledore's Army?" Neville asked wistfully.

Luna nodded. "That was a lot of fun. Until seventh year."

Harry had only heard of the nightmares of the Carrow's reign. Neville, Ginny, and Luna had insisted that no events from their seventh year been recorded in the books. Harry had wanted to know, be able to read what happened for himself, but all three were dead set against it. "It was horrible enough without having it down in writing," Ginny had said.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron were the main ones prevailed upon to share their memories with the pen. They had each inserted their memories concerning their adventures into a pensieve. After dipping the pen into the pensieve, it began fiercely writing, all night and all day, pausing every now and then to read over its work or think about the next scene.

The six watched as the witches and wizards read the first of these books, listening to the story they each helped write. Professor McGonagall had generously given the group the memory of talking with Dumbledore in the minutes before Harry's arrival at the Dursley's. Harry knew what secret would be revealed in the next few seconds, and prepared himself for it.

"The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are – are – that they're – dead," he heard his father whisper. He looked absolutely stunned and Lily looked broken. Harry spotted Snape turning away to hide his face. The Potions Master looked horrorstruck and sick with sorrow.

Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Luna and Neville watched as Tonks was the first to follow the notes' instructions and watched as she began handing the tea out. "Good for her," said Hermione approvingly. "I always loved Tonks. She was so much fun." Harry smiled. The Order had missed her liveliness and sense of humor in the days after the war.

They listened quietly as James finished reading the chapter. Harry swelled when he heard the pride in his father's voice. "My son defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." The words echoed in Harry's head. He wasn't even bothered when he heard Uncle Vernon's angry complaints, but Harry's heart leapt when he saw Sirius defending him. Harry watched his father's face when he read about his infant son's scar. Harry saw a fleeting look of admiration followed quickly by repulsion and fear.

Harry rubbed at the scar absentmindedly. _If you only knew_.


	8. Sweet Dreams

**A/N: Eeep! Sorry for the long wait! Research paper and final exams coming up. =) Anyway, I do realize this is taking a bit to develop, but as this is going to be a terribly long series anyway, I figured I may as well take my time with it. =) I hope you like it! _Please_ let me know what you think, suggestions or questions: if you think a character is getting too much or too little attention, someone reacted differently than you thought they would, or if you think there is anything else. =) Thank you so much!**

Again, the room broke into conversation. James turned to Lily, who was rocking Harry by his side. "I'm sorry, Lils. I'm sure. . . You know I would protect you with my life. I don't understand how. . ." He cleared his throat, and Lily interrupted him. "Harry lived, James. It'll be alright." They sat in silence for a while, until Lily hesitantly asked. "How did he find us?" James was quiet for a bit. "I'm sure he tortured Peter. I doubt he made it either. I don't blame him for breaking. I'm sure I would, too."

Snape sat against a wall, a rumpled mess. Dumbledore came and sat next to him and Snape gave a low moan. "He killed her. He told me he would spare her. I don't know why I expected him to. She's gone. _Gone!_ I'm going to lose her." His face was contorted with grief. "I wish I were dead. I hope I killed myself in those wretched books. The only reason I haven't now is because I can still see her. She hasn't changed much, you know. She's still beautiful." He looked wistfully across the room at Lily, who was sitting next to James and holding James' son. Dumbledore thought for a moment and said, "The reason someone gave us these books is so that we may change the future. Surely you know that. There is hope." Snape's eyes searched Dumbledore's face. "She must survive. She must," he croaked.

Peter Pettigrew sat quietly, near invisible to the others. He observed the room and struggled to keep his nerves under control. _They can't know. And I'll make sure they won't_. Peter knew the risks when he had found the Dark Lord and accepted the Dark Mark. He knew that Sirius would be after him they second they got wind of the Potter's deaths, and Remus as well when he found out that Peter was now the secret keeper. Peter was ready to run, and yet here he was, trapped in a room with no escape. With seven books, he felt sure that his betrayal would come to light, and he felt even more sure that he would be killed the day it was found out.

Peter also remembered his Marauder's days at Hogwarts, and seeing Snape looking like a rag doll in the corner confirmed his deepest suspicions. _Snape loved Lily. He'll kill me as soon as Sirius or Remus. Now, what should I do? _He closed his eyes. He could either wait until they found out and try to escape or come clean now and pray they forgive him. He almost snorted. _Either way I die._ Peter saw Sirius, James, and Lily shooting him strange glances when they thought he wasn't looking. After a few minutes of quiet reflection, Peter realized, _They must think the Dark Lord tortured me for the information. _The thought was more ironic than anything else that had happened so far tonight. If it was found that Peter Pettigrew, one of the four Marauder's, had willingly given the Potter's to Voldemort, he would die and he knew it.

"Frank, I need to talk to you." Frank Longbottom turned from his conversation and looked at his wife. "Now, darling?"

"Absolutely."

"I'm afraid you'll have to excuse me for a moment. Amos. Professor McGonagall." And with a courteous nod to each, he followed his wife. "Are you alright, Alice?" Alice shifted Neville to her other shoulder and began, "Frank, it's late. It's probably 1:30 and I'm tired. How are we going to sleep tonight with Death Eaters nearby?" Frank's eyebrows furrowed. "I'll conjure us a mattress so you can sleep with Neville. We can put enchantments and protections on it, and I'll talk with Dumbledore. I'm sure he's been thinking on it. We'll probably do watches or whatnot."

Alice gave a sigh. "I know there's only so much we can do, but I just don't like it." Frank gave a wry smile. "Amazingly enough, neither do I." He looked around for a spot for his wife and child to sleep. There was none. Then his eyes fell on the kitchen, untouched since the tea. "I wish for more room." The wall to his left suddenly moved back about ten feet, sliding a surprised Peter Pettigrew onto the floor. Frank gave a broad smile and waved his wand. Nothing happened. Slightly bemused, he swished his wand again, more firmly. Still nothing changed. Alice watched, looking bewildered.

Frank waved his wand once more, and clearly said "Dormites!" Nothing happened, and Remus, who had been watching, walked over. Frank examined his wand, and spotting Remus, asked him, "Remus? Did you just see that?" Remus kindly gestured for the wand, and Frank let him hold it. "Dormites!" Remus said firmly. Absolutely nothing changed, and more people were starting to notice. Frank was turning crimson. "I've never had trouble with a spell before!"

Remus looked perplexed. "Perhaps it's the spell? Try another one." Frank took back his wand warily and cried "Aguamenti!" He glanced down at his wand in shock. No water sprouted forth. Holding his wand, Frank realized he couldn't feel any magic in it. There was no warmth, no response, no sign that the wand recognized him as master, or that there was even a drop of magic in the wand at all. It felt simply like an ordinary stick of wood, and panic began to rise. "Remus, you try something." Remus calmly took out his wand. At this point, everyone in the room was watching intently.

Remus pointed his wand towards a note that lay forgotten on the floor. "Accio," he stated. The note lay as still as ever. "Accio note!" he cried. The parchment didn't even twitch. James slowly pulled out his wand. "Expelliarmus!" he said, pointing at Remus. Despite the stares of the entire room, Remus' wand didn't move in the least. "What's going on?" asked Arthur, quickly pulling his wand out as well.

People began shouting incantations all the room. Despite all the ruckus, there was absolutely no change whatsoever. Wizards and witches were frantically waving their wands around, desperately trying every spell they knew, until a loud _pop_ resounded and a note fluttered down right near Petunia Dursley. Petunia glared at the note near her feet. Sirius, getting angrier at the haughty look of Vernon next to her, snapped, "Well, are you going to read it or not?" Petunia glared at him instead, and reached for the note.

_As you have found, we have decided to disable magic in this room. No spells, charms, jinxes, hexes, curses or other enchantments can now be cast. After seeing the results of the recent duel, we thought this was for the best. Understandably, tempers are running high, and there's too much chance someone will get hurt. A__s several of you have found out, t__he room will provide anything and everything you need if you simply wish for it: food, water, more room, bedding, clothes, etc. We hope that this will encourage you to all get along and hopefully prevent anymore skirmishes from breaking out. Please try to remember that you are not alone in this, and once again, not everything is as it seems._

A stunned silence remained after Petunia finished reading. "Oh, dear," Vernon said in a mocking voice. "No magic now, eh? Well, serves you crazies right!" Petunia looked aghast. "Vernon!" she shrieked. Sirius instinctively pointed his wand at Vernon, and cursed when he realized he couldn't do anything. He looked at Vernon menacingly. "Even without magic, I'd stop right now if I were you."

Lily rose. "Sirius, stop! That's my brother-in-law, whether you like it or not!" Sirius reluctantly sat down, as Narcissa gave a haughty scoff. "He's a muggle! What does he know about magic?"

"Everyone, please!" said Dumbledore wearily. "I understand as much as anyone the value of having a working wand, but I do think it is a good idea. We'll simply make do. It's late, and I highly suggest we all get some sleep. We can begin reading tomorrow."

This was met with much arguing, most from Sirius. "Absolutely not! I'm not going to sleep here without any magic with a bunch of Death Eaters! I'm writing back! Give me some parchment!" He flicked his wand. "Parchia!" Nothing happened, and with a foul look, Sirius shouted. "I wish from some parchment!" A roll of parchment fell at his feet. He sat down next to it, and demanded, "And a quill. I wish for a quill and some ink!" Some appeared and he began writing.

"Are you serious?" asked Tonks in amusement. "What are you going to say?" Sirius didn't respond until he finished writing a decent length response. "I'm going to ask 'them' why on earth they think I'm going to sleep, with no magic, in the same room with a bunch of Death Eaters. I'm going to ask them who they think they are bringing us here and ask them what they're doing. And, most of all, I'm going to tell them exactly what I'm going to do with them when I find out who they are and I get my magic back."

Scowling, Sirius reached for a previous note. "What was that spell again? Por-something?" He scanned the note. "Portaria? That's a spell! How am I supposed to-" He didn't finish his sentence as the note disappeared with a _pop_. Sirius stared at the spot it vanished. "Okay . . . " he said slowly. "I suppose we wait." Tonks giggled nervously.

Five minutes later and with a _pop_, a note drifted down into Sirius' lap. Triumphant, he grabbed it, and Tonks called out, "Read it aloud, Sirius!" Sirius smiled and agreed.

_Dear Sirius,_

_Thank you for those kind, considerate and cultured words. We understand that you are upset we took away your wands' magic, but we think this is the best decision. There is too much risk that a fight will break out, and with three young children, we are not willing to take that chance. To answer your other question, we have zero intent to harm you. We have written these books based on future events so that you may all come up with the best outcome possible. We have absolutely no wish to hurt you in any way. Also, we do not think it wise in the moment to tell you who we are, but will in due time. We are watching the room very closely, and will be able to tell precisely if someone intends to harm someone else during the night and be able to quickly put a stop to it, so if you can believe it, both sides can sleep in peace. Meanwhile, please try to keep your temper, and don't let the children hear such language._

Tonks burst out laughing. Dumbledore smiled and spoke. "Well, I'll suppose that's that. We'll simply have to make do." Sirius started up again, "I told you, I'm not sleeping in a room with Death-"

"So we've heard, Black," drawled Snape. "It's not like we're an overwhelming majority here, if you can count. If the three of us kill the thirteen of you in your sleep, which I'll admit is tempting, I doubt we'd have much chance of getting out of here, which I'll also admit, I want as much as you."

Sirius shot Snape a look of deepest loathing, which Snape returned in full. Arthur held up his hand. "We will sleep tonight. Everyone wish for their own space. We can assign watches and Frank has mentioned. Other than that, I simply think we'll have to get through the night."

Narcissa looked at Lucius. "I have an idea." She whispered her idea to Lucius, who thought for a moment, and gave her a nod. "Do you want me to suggest it?" She shook her head and stood up. More than a few wizards tightened their grip on their useless wands and more than a few wizards shot glares full of hate at the witch. Yet, Narcissa stood her ground and announced, "I have an idea." Sirius scoffed and Narcissa scowled at him. "I may support the Dark Lord," she said frostily, "but I am capable of love. I have Draco to think for. I don't trust any of you in the least. I have an idea. What if we ask the room for an alarm? If someone has an intention to harm anyone tonight in their sleep, the room can let us know. Not that I'll be getting any sleep, it'll at least come in handy."

Narcissa's idea was met with begruding satisfaction. Molly pointedly ignored Narcissa and turned to Dumbledore. "We could ask the room to tell us who it is, and what they plan to do. That way we'll know and can stop them in time." Nods went around the room.

"What precisely are we going to say?" asked Remus. "And who is going to do it?"

"I will," said Petunia. Several pairs of wide eyes turned to her. "I want to do it. From what I've gathered, I'm in more danger from them," she motioned to the Malfoy's and Snape quite separate from everyone else, "then anyone else. And I doubt either of you would trust the other side no matter who did it."

Everyone was slightly stunned, more than anyone the Marauder's and Lily, but no one offered an argument and Petunia closed her eyes.

"I wish that this room would let the entire company know if someone has any intention to harm another member of this room in any way. I wish that this room, upon detecting said intention, would loudly and clearly state the name of the person wishing to do harm, what they plan to do, to whom, and freeze them at that point."

Petunia Dursley opened her eyes and looked around. "Anyone have anything to add to that?" she asked defensively. No one said a thing except Peter. "Let's try it," he challenged, avoiding the uneasy glances of Lily, James, and Sirius. "You're a muggle. It might not have worked. Someone try something."

Sirius scoffed. "All too easy," he said, starting towards Lucius. Lucius raised his wand at Sirius and was about to say something, when a deep voice bellowed, "Sirius Black wishes to strangle Lucius Malfoy." Sirius froze on the spot, eyes widened in surprise. Lucius smirked.

"I wish to unfreeze Mr. Black," asserted Remus. Sirius stumbled forward, with an expression of half-disappointment, half-anger on his face.

"Well, I suppose that settles that," said Amos in a would-be-cheerful voice. "No one can do anything now. Let's get started shall we? I wish for enough room for us each to sleep in!"

The white walls nearly tripled in size. Amos nodded in satisfaction. "I wish for a cozy bed I can sleep in tonight!" he added. A four poster with yellow and black hangings appeared in a corner, and with a cry of delight, Amos grinned and walked over. Taking the hint, James added. "I wish for a bed as well, for Lily, Harry, and I."

A slightly wider four-poster appeared with gold and red hangings. James grinned, and others began wishing as well. Soon, there were eight Gryffindor four-posters for the Potter's, the Weasley's, Sirius, Remus, Peter, the Longbottom's, Dumbledore and McGonagall. The parade of scarlet and gold was interrupted by two Slytherin beds and two Hufflepuff beds, and of course, the Dursley's bed.

"I wish for a bed for Petunia and I," Vernon stated. He looked more than slightly uncomfortable asking a room for something. "Nothing like all that," he demanded, gesturing towards the four-posters. "Something normal, if you please." To his relief and surprise, a bed appeared very similar to the one the Dursley's had at home. Vernon still appeared in shock over the fact that a bed had magically appeared upon his requesting for it. "This is too strange, Petunia. Too strange, I say!"

Everyone lumbered into bed, wishes for pajamas sprouting about here and there. And, slowly, slowly, they began drifting off to sleep. Most of the men stayed up until the wee hours of the morning, watching over their wives. But it had been a long day, and tiredly, most reluctantly, the entire room succumbed to their dreams.


	9. The Vanishing Glass

**A/N: This is terribly overdue, I know, and I am sorry. I'm actually going on a two-week vacation to the beach with my best friend, so I apologize in advance. I'll be writing more regularly after that. Please let me know what you think. =) Let me know if you think the characters reacted well, if the plot's going okay, anything and everything! Thank you so much for reading! =)**

* * *

><p>Lily sat up suddenly. Something had woken her, and she froze and listened, her wand gripped tight. She heard it again: a deep snore coming from beside her. She gave a quiet sigh of relief and turned to look at her husband through the dark. His mouth was wide open, and his thick black hair as messy as it ever was. James' glasses were on the table, though his wand was still clenched tight in his hand. After a year of hiding, of wondering if they would all make it, of waiting for some sign that this war would ever end, of watching, ready in case You-Know-Who ever came, a wand meant everything, even if it was useless.<p>

"Lumos," she whispered, desperately hoping for a little light. She knew nothing would happen, and nothing did. She took a deep breath, and opened the curtains of the four poster just a hair. Everyone else seemed asleep. As quietly and as softly as she possibly could, Lily slipped out of bed. It was as dark as it would have been outside at night. She supposed that to be the room's magic, but as she stood, stoic white walls surrounding her, she made a wish. "I wish for a window," she whispered. "Just a little window that would reflect exactly what's outside. Just so I can see."

Silently, a large square window appeared at eye level. She stepped forward and looked out. Holding her robe tighter around her, she tucked her red hair beyond her ear to get a closer look. The scene shocked her. It looked so much like Hogwarts. There was a lake, misty and reflecting a beautiful half moon. Mountains rose in the background, and the sky was black with a tinge of purple, silver stars twinkling at her. Everything was still.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" said a quiet voice.

Lily turned with a quiet gasp. Severus Snape was standing a respectful distance away from her. "I'm sorry," he said in a low voice. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"Oh," Lily breathed. "I didn't see you."

He gave a small smile. "I'm sorry," he said again. Lily turned back to the window without responding. Severus moved close beside her. The two stood in front of the window, looking at the motionless scene before them for some time. Snape tried desperately to think of something to say but simply couldn't. He hung his head and closed his eyes, trying to focus, trying to not let his emotions escape. "Lily, I'm so sorry." His voice was grave and deep and more serious than Lily had ever heard. She turned to look him squarely in the eye.

"What for?"

Snape didn't speak for a long, long while. Eventually, slowly, he spoke, "I am sorry that I joined the Dark Lord. I am sorry I ever got mixed up in the Dark Arts. I thought them to be so strange, so beautiful, so powerful. They are. But they consume you. I am sorry for the people that I have hurt and the families that I have ruined. I am sorry that you have lost yours. Because of me." He paused. "I am sorry, so sorry, that I've lost you." He remained quiet, and waited for Lily to speak, looking out the window.

_Oh Merlin, Severus,_ she thought, looking away from him. She had not seen Severus since the day he had become a Death Eater. He had changed. She knew him, better than anyone else. She knew those eyes, and what she saw in them now were the eyes of a man who had seen and done things he only wished to forget. Eyes of a desperate man. The eyes of a Death Eater. It chilled her to the bone.

"Severus, why?" she whispered. "Why? You knew. You knew it would cost! Yet, you joined him anyway!" He slowly responded, "I did know and I did join. I suppose . . . I felt like I had nothing left."

"There was nothing left in _you_," Lily choked. "That day I saw it. It was only bitterness and hate! There wasn't a trace of the Severus I used to know." She whirled on him, careful to still keep her voice down. "The Severus who said to me, 'No, it doesn't make a difference being muggleborn.' The Severus who played with me when we were younger. The Severus I could rely on and come to before fifth year. Are you really sorry you ever joined the Dark Lord? And, even then, are you sorry because you killed innocent people? Are you sorry because you just wish the guilt to go away? Because it cost my life?"

Snape took a sharp intake of breath. "Lily. . . " He turned to her, eyes hiding nothing.

"Tell me, Severus. Tell me the truth."

Silence. "The truth?"

"Yes. I assume you know what that is?"

Snape pleaded one last time. "Lily, please! All I know is that . . . is that I _love_ you, love you more than life itself, and I can't . . . I can't stand to lose you again. I couldn't bear it."

Lily let her hair cover her face. "Severus . . . ," she said gently "I'm married now. I can't change the past. You chose your path, and I chose mine, and I followed it." She turned to him. "Please. Don't let that grieve you. I'm alive, and I am well. We can still see each other and talk, just like in the old days."

Snape stared straight out the window. "But you will never be mine."

"No, Lily whispered. "I won't." The two looked out in silence. Lily didn't have to look at Severus to know his face was unreadable. He was trying to hide behind a mask, but she knew him too well.

"Severus, please don't mourn me. I am alive."

Snape gave a twisted smile. "You are, and will stay so if costs my life." Lily couldn't help but smile back.

"It's late, Sev. I'll see you in the morning."

Snape looked at her, absorbing the picture of her so close to him, looking up at him, her face silvery with moonlight. "Good night."

She turned and gracefully climbed into bed, closing the curtains behind her. Snape stood in the moonlight, staring at the window.

"Good night, Lily."

* * *

><p>"Lily! Lily, wake up, doe."<p>

Lily muttered something unintelligible.

"Lily, please, wake up."

James prodded her gently, and she yawned heavily. "Alright. I'm up. I'm up." James had already drew the curtains of the four-poster back and had changed into jeans and a t-shirt. Lily sat on the edge of the bed, and looked out her window. The lake was still covered with mist, the sky black. _Time has stopped in this room. _Rubbing her temples, she rose, still slightly groggy. Then the white carpet changed to a green tiled floor.

Before Lily even had time to register what had happened, Tonks gasped, "It works! Bloody brilliant!" The floor changed to a very soft, light blue carpet, and then a shaggy hot pink. The walls began changing, too. From polka dots to stripes to —

"Tonks, please! It's a bit early in the morning for that, don't you think?" Apparently, Molly had just woken up, too.

The clamor of the morning awoke more people, and soon, all twenty-one guests were sitting around a long dining room tabled Lucius Malfoy had scathingly wished for.

"Who asked for the window?" said Arthur between bites of oatmeal.

"I did," said Lily, spreading some butter on her toast. "I woke up last night and thought it would be nice to see what was happening outside, but the room stopped time. Looks a bit like Hogwarts, doesn't it?"

Arthur nodded his agreement. They decided to leave the table for lunch, but cleared the dishes. Rising, McGonagall cleared her throat. "Please, everyone! I think it time we make ourselves at home here. I have been thinking the matter over, and have decided we need at least two bathrooms, and some sort of living space.

Three minutes later, Alice Longbottom was walking around the room, glancing down at the list she had in her hands. "I wish for five couches and eight armchairs, please." A variety appeared. "I wish for a large coffee table, too." A rectangular coffee table appeared inside the circle of chairs and couches, and the books neatly stacked themselves on it. Impressed, Alice read through the list again. "I wish for two large bathrooms, one for women, and one for men." Two doors appeared. Sirius bolted for the nearest one, while Remus laughed.

Akuce smiled as she reached Tonk's request. "I wish for some light green walls please, and some soft, white carpet." The room complied, and Alice added a black and white clock that would reflect the proper hour had time not been frozen. Sirius exited the bathroom on the left, a look of deep disgust on his face. "That's the girl's." Tonks poked her head in and giggled: the walls were a light pink, with black and white polka dots covering everything.

Alice reached the last thing on the list: "I wish for the walls to become glass, so we may see where we are." The room complied, and everyone took a breath. Amos Diggory walked towards the edge and looked downward. His eyes widened and he paled. In a rather small voice, Amos said, "I think we _are_ at Hogwarts." They seemed to be near the top of a tower. The sky and mountains surrounded them. The lake and Hogwarts grounds were far below, and in the distance, the readers could see Hogsmeade, streetlights glowing in the black.

"Everything is so . . . still," Frank remarked, staring through the glass. It was true. The mist did not move, nor was their evidence of any breeze. No ripples moved the lake, and Molly was first to spot a bird, frozen in flight. After everyone had looked around (though a few didn't come anywhere near the edge), Alice wished the walls would return, keeping only Lily's window. No one, however, forgot how high they were suspended.

After showers and a new set of robes, the group gathered around the table, the books neatly stacked in the middle. James reached for _Sorcerer's Stone_. "Who wants to read?" Lily was selected, and turned to the second chapter. "The Vanishing Glass?" she remarked with a wry smile.

**Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew on the front steps, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all**, read Lily. **The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on the Dursley's front door; it crept into their living room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night when Mr. Dursley had seen that fateful news report about the owls.**

Lupin was the only one who spotted the Dursley's looking deeply uncomfortable at having their home and personal lives discussed. Everyone else sat, eyes riveted on Lily, and the paperback she held in her hands.

**Only the photographs on the mantlepiece really showed how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearning different-colored bonnets — but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a large blond boy—"**

"A large pink beach ball?" barked Vernon. "My son is no beach ball!" Petunia calmly quieted Vernon, who sat back on the couch, looking mutinous.

**"—large blond boy riding his first bicycle, on a carousel at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother. The room held no sign at all that another boy lived in the house, too."**

James looked sharply at the Dursley's. Petunia tried to look indifferent, unmoved, but Vernon seemed rather taken aback at James' intense glare. "For your own sake," James spoke in a low voice. "You had better hope that Harry has received nothing but love at Privet Drive."

"You're lucky we even took the boy! I'm sure whatever we decided to do is good enough for _him_!" Vernon retorted.

"James, please sit back down." Lily's voice was as sharp as her eyes.

"Lily," Petunia said, her voice cold. "I suggest you read ahead and just let James know about Harry. I have a feeling he won't be pleased, and I think it better for him just to know going into this."

Sirius scowled. "What do you mean, 'won't be pleased?' Why would you treat Harry with any difference than your son, Dudley?" Lily briefly scanned the page.

"James, this isn't wonderful. Harry isn't treated right, but no matter what happens, I want you to look me in the eye and promise me you will keep your temper."

Very reluctantly, he did so, and Lily continued to read.

**Yet Harry Potter was still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long. His Aunt Petunia was awake and it was her shrill voice that made the first noise of the day.**

**"Up! Get up! Now!"**

James frowned deeply.

**Harry woke with a start. His aunt rapped on the door again.**

**"Up!" she screeched. Harry heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove. He rolled onto his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having. It had been a good one. There had been a flying motorcycle in it. He had a funny feeling he'd had the same dream before.**

As Lily read, James and Sirius grew more and more agitated with every impatient demand of Aunt Petunia, and even more so when they learned it was Dudley's birthday and Harry was expected to help cook. Dumbledore sat quietly, hands folded, listening to the story. McGonagall only arched her eyebrows and wrinkled her nose in disapproval. Lily read, her frown growing dark and darker.

**He found a pair of socks under his bed and, after pulling a spider off one of them, put them on. Harry was used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where he slept.**

Lily looked at Petunia in horror.

"You keep my child, _your nephew_, in a _cupboard_ under some _stairs_?" exlaimed James.

"How dare you keep Harry there?" asked Sirius sharply. Vernon looked like Harry living under the cupboard was a fine idea, and seemed about to say so, but Petunia stood, ready to argue. Her voice was stiff and formal, and shook only in the slightest.

"We took Harry because _you_ could not! For ten years we have clothed and fed Harry! I am sure—"

She was cut off by a rather formidable-looking Molly Weasley. "But a child? You kept a _child_ in a cupboard!" Petunia kept her head held high, refusing to budge on the subject.

"At least we took the boy in!"

"Oh, well points for you for taking in your orphaned nephew!" said Tonks sarcastically.

James looked incensed. "How dare you treat Harry like that? He's already lost his parents, and then you make him sleep in some little cupboard, full of spiders and Merlin only knows—"

"He seems fine! We've fed him, we haven't beaten him, I'm sure he goes to school—"

"You haven't beaten him, 'Tuney?" drawled Snape. "Why, how kind of you."

Lily glanced at Snape, relaxed in his black leather armchair, and briefly remembered the stories Snape had told her about his own home in Spinner's End. No doubt Snape was thinking of the same.

"I'm going to continue reading!" Lily shouted. Sirius and James were on their feet, arguing with Vernon and Petunia, and the other members of the Order were also shouting abuse.

James sat down, looking quite upset. He took Harry, who had been napping between them, onto his lap, where he promptly gurgled and tried to take off James' glasses.

The author, whoever it was, for there was no name engraved on the cover, discussed the various expensive gifts Dudley had recieved.

**Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to Harry, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise — unless of course it involved punching someone. Dudley's favorite punching bag was Harry, but he couldn't often catch him. Harry didn't look it, but he was very fast.**

Lupin looked disgusted, and glanced over to the Dursley's.

**Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harry had always been small and skinny for his age. He looked even smaller and skinnier than he really was because all he had to wear were old clothes of Dudley's and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was. **

"So you keep him in a cupboard, let your son Dudley beat him, and then give him hand me downs?" James asked forcefully.

Petunia glared at him defiantly.

Lily took a deep breath and kept reading.

**Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair, and bright green eyes.**

"Your hair, my eyes, James."

**He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Scotch tape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose. The only thing Harry liked about his own appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead that was shaped like a bolt of lightning. He had had it as long as he could remember, and the first question he could ever remember asking his Aunt Petunia was how he had gotten it.**

**"In the car crash when your parents died," she had said. "And don't ask questions."**

"A car crash? Really Petunia?" Lily demanded of her sister. Petunia simply sat, looking at everyone else more haughtily than even Narcissa.

Then the readers had the joy of meeting the fictional Uncle Vernon.

**"Comb your hair!" he barked, by way of a morning meeting.**

James nearly smiled as the author described Harry's, and James', ever-messy hair.

**Harry was frying eggs by the time Dudley arrived in the kitchen with his mother. Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He**** had a large pink face, not much neck, small watery blue eyes, and thick blond hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head. Aunt Petunia often said that Dudley looked like a baby angel **— Harry often said that Dudley looked like a pig in a wig.****

Vernon actually managed to hold his tongue. A few snickers met Harry's remark. James shook his head, and peered over Lily's shoulder as she continued to read, describing how the Dursley's spoiled their son to the most ridiculous extent.

"Surely you know that such pampering can't be good for the boy?" inquired McGonagall with a frown.

"I think we know how to raise our son," Petunia replied acidly. She had grown more and more upset with every passing paragraph. She knew that Dudley was spoiled, and obviously unhealthy large, but she'd rather be cursed than admit it.

"I have been teaching students at Hogwarts for over twenty-five years," Minerva protested. She was interrupted.

"Yes," said Petunia scathingly, looking the professor up and down critically. "I thought as much."

Professor McGonagall's eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared. Dumbledore looked up sharply and calmly addressed Petunia.

"Mrs. Dursley, please refrain from insulting my staff. I understand this is a difficult situation for you. You are unfamiliar with magic, unfamiliar with the people in this room, and in a possible future outcome, your sister and brother-in-law have just been killled, leaving you to care for Harry. That situation, hopefully, will change, but there is no excuse for you to make such remarks."

Petunia's face was unreadable, but Dumbledore politely nodded his head towards Lily.

**Harry put the plates of egg and bacon on the table.**

**"Bad news, Vernon," **the fictional Petunia was saying. **"Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take him."**

"Mrs. Figg?" Frank asked. "As in Mrs. Arabella Figg?"

Lily shrugged. "Let's see." **Every year, Harry was left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made him loook at photographs of all the cats she'd ever owned.**

"That's Arabella," Peter muttered. Sirius glanced at him for a moment, his eyes full of sorrow. He caught Jame's eye and quietly nodded in Peter's direction. James nodded back, the entire thing unnoticed in the large group.

Lily read of the Dursley's indecision of what to do with young Harry Potter, Dudley's crocodile tears, and Dudley's not-so-charming friend Piers Polkiss. Soon, the five were on the way to the zoo, but not before Vernon pulled Harry aside, warning him to behave.

Most of the guys got a laugh at Harry's accidental magic: horrific haircuts and terrible sweaters. The group dived deeper and deeper into Harry's life: the way the Dursley's treated him, the bullying of Dudley and his friend. It became an unspoken agreement that the Dursley's were to be held in contempt, and every time they mistreated Harry re-inforced that. Petunia didn't seem to mind. She kept silent and cold, while Vernon simply reclined next to her on the sofa, glaring at everyone in the room. The Dursley's were ostracized from the group almost as much as Snape and the Malfoy's.

James scowled darkly when the Dursley's had locked Harry in the cupboard for his accidental magic; when Vernon complained of Harry and yelled that motorcycles don't fly; when Harry was off-handedly given whatever Dudley didn't eat; and every time Dudley and Piers sniggered at Harry's misfortune. _My child, the Boy Who Lived, deserves better_, he kept telling himself. And, he was absolutely sure that whatever decision they reached in the end, Harry would be given better indeed.

Dudley was now whining to Vernon about some python in a glass. Walking away, Harry took a turn to look at it. **The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were on a level with Harry's.** Lily looked quite perplexed at the next few words. **_It winked_**.

"Why would it do that?" Lily wondered to herself. She paused, staring at the words, and continued. **Harry stared. Then he looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching. They weren't. He looked back at the snake and winked, too.**

**The snake jerked its head toward Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then raised its eyes to the ceiling. It gave Harry a look that said quite plainly: _"I get that all the time."_**

"This is so strange!" Lily exclaimed. "Is there some sort of magical species of snake?"

"Not that I know of," Lupin responded. "I wish Hagrid were here. He could probably tell us." Lily smiled for a moment, and then picked up the book again.

**"I know," Harry murmured through the glass, though he wasn't sure the snake could hear him. "It must be really annoying." The snake nodded vigorously.**

**"Where do you come from, anyway?" Harry asked. The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass. Harry peered at it. Boa Constrictor, Brazil. "Was it nice there?" The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and Harry read on: This specimen was bred in the zoo. "Oh, I see **— so you've never been to Brazil?"****

"Maybe it's something like a Kneazle," Arthur suggested. "Some sort of magical creature with a high intelligence."

"There's a worthy idea," Sirius nodded. Everyone in the room thought on it for a moment before Lily began to read again.

****As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind Harry made both of them jump. "DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY!,"**** Lily read calmly. **"COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T _BELIEVE_ WHAT IT'S DOING!"**

**Dudley came waddling toward them as fast as he could. "Out of the way, you," he said, punching Harry in the ribs. **James glanced down at Harry, who was sitting in his lap contentedly, sucking his thumb. **Caught by surprise, Harry fell hard against the concrete floor. What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened **— one second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with howls of horror.****

****Harry sat up and gasped; the glass front of the boa constrictor's tank had vanished. The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits.****

****As the snake slid swiftly past him, Harry could have sworn a low, hissing voice said, "Brazil, here I come . . . Thanksss, amigo."****

Sirius, who had laughed at Harry's magic, now had a look of horror, mirroring James.

"Harry! Is — Is Harry a _parseltongue_?" asked Arthur incredulously.

The room stared at the young boy.

"The Boy-Who-Lived a parseltongue?" asked Malfoy with a smirk. "Well, someone conjure a snake and we'll see."

"Why don't we hex you instead?" Sirius suggested harshly.

"No one will be conjuring any snakes!" Lily retorted. "And you can't hex anyone anyway, Sirius." She looked down at her son, sitting in James' lap. "Harry? A parseltongue? But, why?"

No one offered an answer. Lily gazed at a corner of the coffee table for a few minutes, deep in thought, and then resumed reading.

The reptile house was in uproar, and Dudley and Piers were telling wild stories of the various ways the snake had tried to kill him. Though the snake had simply slithered passed them, it was Harry who got the blame.

**Uncle Vernon was angry he could hardly speak. He managed to say, "Go **— cupboard** **— stay** **— no meals," before h**************e collapsed into a chair, and Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a large brandy.**

"Oh, you've fed him for ten years?" Tonks voice was light, but her pointed look spoke volumes.

Petunia was unmoved. "That snake could've killed someone."

"So you lock him in a cupboard with no food," Amos Diggory stated.

Vernon was tiring of this entire thing. "All this magic nonsense! The boy is abnormal! What else are we to do with him and all his crazy fiascos?"

"Love him!" James said aggressively. "Love him, and care for him, because _his _parent's can't." He seemed to be reaching the end of fuse. "I've never met anyone like you two! You hate anything strange, anything magical so much, you forget common decency! Harry is a wizard, but he is human, and deserves to be treated as such! Not a box you can simply store in a cupboard!"

The Dursley's sat in mutual silence.

"Petunia, you must see reason," Lily quietly addressed her sister. "Magic exists whether you like it or not. You can't ignore it much longer. You're here for a reason. You don't have to like it, but you have to live with it. And you have to treat my son right."

Petunia knew she was in the wrong. She knew that the reason for Harry's poor treatment was simply fear and bitterness and ignorance. But the fear and bitterness and ignorance was still there. She didn't understand magic, didn't understand the scale of it, and knew she probably never would. She had blamed her sister.

_Who would want to be a freak like that?_ she consoled herself. "I do" was the honest answer, but that wouldn't help anything. She would never be a part of wonderful, magical world, and so, to ease the pain, she decided to hate it.

She sat straight in her armchair, glaring at her hands clasped in her lap.

"I haven't actually treated Harry poorly. You can't blame me for something I only might have done." Petunia stated in as detatched a voice as she could muster.

"Oh, Petunia! If we hadn't been summoned to this room, you would have and you know it. These were actual events, until someone summoned us."

She did know it. Everything was different now. She was trapped in a room with twenty wizards and had seen first-hand the power of magic. She understood a war was going on, and could feel every bit of hate that passed between what they called the "Death Eaters" and the "Order." It was an unconscious undercurrent between the two sides, always there, never interrupted.

She was wrong, but she couldn't admit it. It was so much easier to simply insist she was right, even when everyone knew she wasn't.

"Well, nothing can be done about it," she said in a voice still far from kind.

Lily stared at her sister. She had an expression of sorrow and confusion and denial on her face. _It's like I don't even know who you are anymore, 'Tuney. When we grew up, we always played house. You would have been a great mother. Now, look at you. Look at what your'e saying._ Petunia stared right back. She knew what Lily was thinking, and instead looked down pointedly at the book in her hands. Lily sighed.

"We're almost there. Let's just read."

**Harry lay in his dark cupboard much later, wishing he had a watch . . . He couldn't risk sneaking to the kitchen for some food . . .He'd lived with the Dursley's almost ten years, ten long miserable years . . . He couldn't remember being in the car when his parents had died.**

The words collected and bounced around in Lily's head as she read.

**Sometimes, when he strained his memory during long hours in his cupboard, he came up with a strange vision: a blinding flash of green light and a burning pain on his forehead. This, he supposed, was the crash, thought he couldn't imagine where all the green light came from. **

Everyone knew precisely what had happened. No one needed to say anything. They all knew. Lily's voice grew heavy. She read of Harry's yearning to know of his parents, of his desperation to leave the Dursley's, of the few wizards that had shown kindness to him.

**At school, Harry had no one. Everybody knew that Dudley's gang hated that odd Harry Potter in his baggy old clothes and broken glasses, and nobody liked to disagree with Dudley's gang. **

Lily closed the book. She looked down at the cover, grief filling her heart. _James and I are dead. Harry's an orphan, and is abused by my sister, who won't say a civil word to me._ After dwelling on those thoughts for a few minutes, she looked at the clock. 11:45. "I'm going to get a snack," she said. She left the book behind her in the seat, and walked away towards the kitchen. No one said anything, no one watched her go, but simply shared looks with their neighbors and began to talk amongst themselves.


	10. The Letters From No One

**A/N: Thank you to DarkSnider05, who pointed out that Narcissa Malfoy never actually was a Death Eater, only an ally. I already knew that, so why I wrote it is beyond me. Thanks for pointing it out!**

* * *

><p>James watched Lily walk into the kitchen and start opening cupboards, her face unreadable. He considered going after her, but realized she wanted to be alone, away from the group. Instead, Sirius sat down on the couch next to him.<p>

"Know what I'm thinking?" he asked. James smiled and shook his head.

"No, and I learned long ago not to wonder."

Sirius grinned, and then his face turned quite grim. He motioned Lupin over and took a breath.

"I think we should talk to Wormtail. I know he probably feels horrible about telling Voldemort the secret and freaked out about the fact that Voldemort might come torture him for information. We should just let him know that it's okay, and we'll work something out."

Lupin was quiet. "Peter was the Secret Keeper?"

Comprehension dawned on Sirius' face. "Moony, we switched. I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you. You didn't . . . this whole time, you didn't think I told, did you?"

Lupin gave a wry smile. "I didn't know what to think. But, I saw your face when McGonagall said Lily and James were dead. I knew you had nothing to do with it. I'm assuming you switched because you suspected me to the be the spy?"

Sirius looked at Lupin apologetically. "Moony . . . we weren't sure. You know the Order thinks there may be a spy somewhere. All the rumors and everything. We weren't sure who to trust. We didn't even tell Dumbledore we switched. You understand, don't you?"

Lupin nodded. "Yes, absolutely . . . It's so hard to think anyone in the Order would be capable of passing information to You-Know-Who. We've all suspected it. I don't blame you. To be honest, I was wondering if it was you. I'm sorry. Never should've doubted you." He paused. "And Peter?"

"Ridiculous," Sirius said dismissively. "He'd never do such a thing. He's been with us all since our first year at Hogwarts and," he snuck a look at a dozing Wormtail, "he's never really been one to take risks."

"We should just let him know we forgive him," James interrupted. "I can't imagine being tortured by You-Know-Who. I don't think I could stand it, much less Peter. I don't blame him. It doesn't matter anyway, really. Things are going to change. It'll all work out in the end."

"Right then. Next chance we get, we'll let him know," Sirius said in satisfaction, and rose to return to his red armchair. Lupin smiled at James and followed suit.

James glanced into the kitchen. Lily was absentminedly scrubbing her plate in the sink. He took a glance around the room. No one was paying him any mind. He got up and wrapped his arms around Lily's waist.

"Need some time to think, Lils?"

She seemed startled and turned to look her husband in the eye. "James, I don't know what I'm going to do with you."

He grinned. "You'll figure something out. You always do."

Lily sighed and left the dish in the sink. "Do you want to read? We can just take turns, I suppose." James nodded and grabbed the book.

"Hey, guys, let's get in another chapter, and we'll eat. Does that sound good?"

A vote of confidence behind him, James opened up the book.

Flipping to the right page, he read aloud, "We're on chapter three. It's called 'The Letters From No One.'"

He grinned. "Lily! I think Harry's about to get his letters from Hogwarts!" His heart swelled with pride and he glanced over at Harry. The Longbottom's had created a play pen for Neville with several toys, and Harry was now playing with a stuffed dragon. Narcissa held Draco, a challenge in her eyes that went heeded by no one.

"Another Gryffindor, naturally," Snape muttered under his breath. James shot him a poisonous look.

"Yes. Naturally." He opened the book and read.

**The escape of the Brazilian boa constrictor earned Harry his longest-ever punishment. By the time he was allowed out of his cupboard again, the summer holidays had started and Dudley had already borken his new video camera, crashed his remote control airplane**—****

As James continued the list of Dudley's now broken toys, Lily dwelled on those five words. "The summer holidays had started . . ." She tried hard, so hard, not to think about her child locked in a cupboard for that long. Her heart just felt shattered. _James and I worked so hard to create a wonderful world for him to live in. A world free from fear and pain. _In the end, it was Harry who defeated You-Know-Who, Harry who had become an orphan, and Harry who was now abandoned in a cupboard, locked away and unloved. Lily couldn't even look at him, innocent and bubbly. He just transformed into a pale, thin boy sitting alone in the dark.

**Harry was glad school was over, but there was no escaping Dudley's gang, who visited the house every single day. Piers, Dennis, Malcolm, and Gordon were all big and stupid, but as Dudley was the biggest and stupidest of the lot, he was the leader.**

Petunia's eyes flashed with anger.

**The rest of them were all quite happy to join in Dudley's favorite sport: Harry Hunting.**

James shot a quick glance at Lily, and stumbled over the next few words. She looked torn apart, pale, withdrawn, staring down at the carpet without a hope in the world. Even when her parents died, even when Petunia screamed abuse at her and left that one Christmas, she had never looked so destroyed.

**This was why Harry spent as much time as possible out of the house, wandering around and thinking about the end of the holidays, where he could see a tiny ray of hope. When September came he would be going off to secondary school, and for the first time in his life, he wouldn't be with Dudley.**

Sirius smirked, and laughed. "Can you imagine Dudley at Hogwarts?"

Vernon turned pale at the very idea. He leaned close to Petunia and whispered, "I'm so glad poor Dudley doesn't have to join us in this awful place." Petunia gave the barest of nods in agreement.

**Dudley had been accepted at Uncle Vernon's old private school, Smeltings. Piers Polkiss was going there, too. Harry, on the other hand, was going to Stonewall High, the local public school. Dudley thought this very funny.**

**"They stuff people's heads down the toilet the first day at Stonewall," he told Harry. "Want to come upstairs and practice?"**

**"No, thanks," said Harry. "The poor toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head down it — it might be sick."**

A roar of laughter greeted Harry's response. Lupin, still chuckling, told James, "He might be a Ravenclaw with wit like that."

"Nah, Moony, he's a Gryffindor, I'd bet you anything."

Harry was left at Mrs. Figg's while Petunia bought Dudley his new uniform.

**Smeltings' boys wore maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers, and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitting each other while the teachers weren't looking. This was supposed to be good training for later life.**

Another round of laughter went around the room. Vernon looked absolutely affronted, while Lily still was curled up on the couch, staring blankly at the carpet.

The next morning, Harry found his school uniform, which were described as looking like "bits of old elephant skin."

James voice filled with excitement as he read the next line.

**They heard the click of the mail slot and flop of letters on the doormat.**

**"Get the mail, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon from behind his paper.**

**"Make Harry get it."**

**"Get the mail, Harry."**

**"Make Dudley get it."**

**"Poke him with your Smelting stick, Dudley."**

And Harry was off. Siriu and Lupin were all grinning with anticipation, remembering fondly their first Hogwarts acceptance letter. McGonagall and Dumbledore were both smiling, as were the rest of the Order. Snape's face remained impassive, but the Malfoy's still sat far away, identical looks of disgust on their face. The Dursley's made it plain to everyone they didn't understand nor did they care to by haughty looks and occasional whispers. James looked as if he hardly could control himself when Harry stared in shock at his letter.

**He picked it up and stared at it, his heart twanging like a giant elastic band. No one, ever, in his whole life, had written to him. Who would? He had no friends, no other relatives — he didn't belong to the library, so he'd never even got rude notes asking for books back. Yet, here it was, a letter, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake.**

**Mr. H. Potter**

**The Cupboard Under the Stairs**

**4 Privet Drive**

**Little Whining**

**Surrey**

Harry was entranced with the letter, examining the ink, the crest, the thick parchment that had delivered letters to witches and wizards for centuries. Everything was going wonderfully, until Dudley spotted it.

**"Dad!" said Dudley suddenly. "Dad, Harry's got something!"**

**Harry was on the point of unfolding his letter, which was written on the same heavy parchment as the envelope, when it was jerked sharply out of his hand by Uncle Vernon.**

James glared at Vernon, who glared back unabashed.

**"That's _mine_!" said Harry, trying to snatch it back.**

**"Who'd be writing to you?" sneered Uncle Vernon. **

And the chaos started. Vernon's face turned gray, Petunia started shrieking, Dudley began whining, and all the while, Harry demanded the letter that was rightfully his.

**"Get out, both of you," croaked Uncle Vernon, stuffing the letter back inside its envelope.**

**Harry didn't move.**

**"I WANT MY LETTER!" he shouted.**

The two boys were tossed out of the kitchen, and after a quick scuffle at the door, tried to eavesdrop.

**"I'm not having one in the house, Petunia! Didn't we swear when we took him in we'd stamp out that dangerous nonsense?"**

Dumbledore sat reflectively, his hands clasped together except his pointer fingers. His looked calm, peaceful, mildy curious, but his heart had skipped a beat at Vernon's words. He was forcibly reminded of another young witch he once knew, a witch who hadn't ever learned how to use magic properly, but had kept it bottled up inside her because of three muggle boys who had also wanted to stamp out that dangerous nonsense. And he hoped, oh how he desperately, painfully, hoped that Harry would never have her fate.

Vernon visited Harry's cupboard the next day, and in response to Harry's automatic question concerning who was writing him letters, Vernon replied:

**"No one. It was addressed to you by mistake," said Uncle Vernon shortly. "I have burned it."**

Alice looked aghast. "He burned Harry's Hogwarts acceptance letter!" she cried in outrage and horror. She didn't even bother addressing Vernon directly, who appeared completely nonplussed. "Professors, what . . .?"

Dumbledore reassured her, "It's quite alright, Alice. My dear Professor McGonagall, as headmistress, is in charge of the duty of the annual Hogwarts acceptance letter. Hogwarts is alerted if a student did not read their letter, and Professor McGonagall shall simply send another."

Arthur curiously asked, "Has this kind of thing ever happened before?"

The Headmaster, with a twinkle in his eye, replied, "Oh, every once and again. Please, continue James."

Harry was then moved to Dudley's old second bedroom. Dudley, of course, threw an absolute fit, and was completely unsettled by his parent's determination.

Lily was only lending half an ear to the story. _She had two extra rooms. Two extra rooms and she put Harry in a cupboard. Harry deserves better. Our son, the hero of the Wizarding World, deserves so much better._

**Next morning at breakfast, everyone was rather quiet.**

**When the mail arrived, Uncle Vernon, who seemed to be trying to be nice to Harry, made Dudley go and get it. They heard him banging things with his Smelting stick all the way down the hall. Then he shouted, "There's another one! 'Mr. H. Potter, The Smallest Bedroom, 4 Privet Drive**—' "****

**With a strange cry, Uncle Vernon leapt from his seat and ran down the hall, Harry right behind him. Uncle Vernon had to wrestle Dudley to the ground to get the letter from him, which was made difficult by the fact that Harry had grabbed Uncle Vernon around the neck from behind.**

The majority of the Order looked quite taken aback by extent the Dursley's were going to refuse Harry his letter. A few looked very confused.

**Someone knew Harry had moved out of his cupboard and they seemed to know he hadn't received his first letter. Surely that meant they'd try again? And this time he'd make sure they didn't fail. He had a plan.**

**The repaired alarm clock rang at six o'clock the next morning. Harry turned it off quickly and dressed silently. He mustn't wake the Dursleys. He stole downstairs without turning on any of the lights.**

And so Harry snuck down the stairs, ready to wait for the postman. His plan was interrupted, however, when his foot found Vernon sleeping in front of the door. And the three letters that had been sent to Harry were ripped to pieces before his eyes.

Twelve came on Friday, poking through the doors and windows. Twenty-four came on Saturday, rolled up the eggs.

James looked askance at Dumbledore. "The letters are very persistant," he remarked.

Dumbledore smiled. "No doubt Professor McGonagall has already confronted me about the matter.

Professor McGonagall seemed quite mystified but nodded in agreement and said, "For Harry Potter, the boy who defeated You Know Who, to remain ignorant of the Wizarding World is unacceptable. After sending twenty-four letters, I quite think I'd march over myself soon afterwards."

Dumbledore chuckled. "I have no doubt of it, my dear Minerva. I'm probably thinking of it myself."

The Dursley's, still sitting stiffly on the couch, looked upset at having to be so disturbed by these letters. But Petunia's mind was racing ahead, trying to figure out what would soon happen. She knew, however, that the letters would persist and felt a deep sense of foreboding.

**On Sunday morning, Uncle Vernon sat down at the breakfast table looking tired and rather ill, but happy.**

**"No post on Sundays," he reminded them cheerfully as he spread marmalade on his newspapers, "no letters today**—"****

****Something came whizzing down the kitchen chimney as he spoke and caught him sharply on the back of the head.****

The Order knew Professor McGonagall's wrath was about to arrive full force, and most looked up gleefully. Tonks let out a cry of triumph and her hair changed to a brilliant orange.

**Next moment, thirty or forty letters came pelting out of the fireplace like bullets. The Dursley's ducked, but Harry leapt into the air trying to catch one**—****

****"Out! OUT!"****

And Harry was bodily tossed out into the hall and Vernon seemed to have reached a final decision.

**"That does it," said Uncle Vernon. "I want you all back here in five minutes ready to leave. We're going away. Just pack some clothes. No arguments!"**

The Dursley's seemed disquieted when James read that Vernon had hit Dudley round the head for holding them up, trying to cram all his toys into a bag. Vernon, looking ashamed, muttered to his wife, "Well, Petunia, he does seem a bit pampered. I suppose it was good for him." For the first time, Petunia said nothing.

Lily, however, just looked more miserable than ever.

Without stopping once, the Dursley's and Harry arrived at a run-down hotel.

**They ate stale cornflakes and cold tinned tomatoes on toast for breakfast the next day. They had just finished when the owner of the hotel came over to their table.**

**" 'Scuse me, but is one of you Mr. H. Potter? Only I got about an 'undred of these at the front desk."**

And sure enough, it was letters for Harry. A cheer went up, which quickly died as Vernon batted Harry's hand away and took them himself. They drove, and drove, Petunia and Dudley trying to make Vernon see reason.

**"It's Monday," Dudley told his mother. "The Great Humberto's on tonight. I want to stay somewhere with a _television_."**

**Monday. This reminded Harry of something. If it ****was ****Monday ****— and you could usually count on Dudley to know the days of the week, because of television ****— ****then tomorrow, Tuesday, was Harry's eleventh birthday.******

James grinned.

"That'll be a wonderful surprise," Arthur said with a smile. "I can't even imagine how excited little Harry'll be."

Molly looked thoughtful. She glanced at Lily, and then thought better of it, and decided to address James. "James, when's Harry's birthday?"

James answered immediately. "July 31, 1981."

Molly beamed. "Wonderful! Ron and Harry'll be in the same year!"

"I'm sure they'll become great friends, Molly," James smiled.

**Of course, his birthdays were never exactly fun ****— last year, the Dursley's had given him a coat hanger and a pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks. Still, you weren't eleven everyday.******

"Nor are you ten everyday. A coat hanger!" Lupin shook his head.

A few shot glances at Lily. She had grown paler and more haunted with each description of Harry's life with the Dursley's. Now, however she didn't give any indication she had heard at all.

_Harry lives in a dark cupboard. He has no friends. He's underfed. He's sometimes beaten by my nephew. Harry's utterly neglected by my sister and her husband. He doesn't even get proper clothes. He's never had a friend. He doesn't know anything about magic, James, his mother, nothing of his godfather. He's kept in a little closet under the stairs. Harry's never had a friend. Harry has nothing. Nothing. Nothing_.

The thoughts haunted Lily. It was too easy to picture little Harry, curled up and alone, hiding from the wrath of Vernon or from the cruelty of Dudley. Harry already looked quite a bit like James. If he was just shorter, paler, skinnier, and if he had a thick lightning scar carved deep into his forehead . . .

She hadn't forgotten comforting Severus on the days after his father had beaten him. She doubted Vernon ever treated Harry as horribly as Mr. Snape had treated Severus, but it didn't matter. She'd seen the effect abuse and abandonment had made on Sev, and it seemed to be surrounding Harry as well . . . for the past ten years of his life, that was all he had. Not the warm, loving parents, Lily had always prayed for him to have.

**Uncle Vernon was back and he was smiling. He was also carrying a long, thin package and didn't answer Aunt Petunia when she asked what he'd bought.**

**"Found the perfect place!" he said. "Come on! Everyone out!"**

**It was very cold outside the car. Uncle Vernon was pointing at what looked like a large rock way out at sea. Perched on top of the rock was the most miserable little shack you could imagine. One thing was certain: there was no television in there.**

"I don't understand," said Arthur slowly. "Is this some sort of joke?"

James skimmed the page. "No, I don't think it is."

"But Vernon isn't actually taking his wife, son, and Harry to live on that thing just to escape a few letters?"

Lily spoke, the first time in a long time, intent upon picking the fabric of her armchair. Her voice was low and emotionless.

"It's not the letters, Arthur. It has nothing to do with letters. It has everything to do with what they say. Those letters say that Harry is a wizard. To you, that's nothing shocking or mortifying or disgusting. But my sister has always hated magic. _Hated _it. She doesn't understand, she doesn't want to, she would give anything to have it just disappear off the face of the earth. If Harry is accepted to Hogwarts, she'll have to have a wizard living under her house. To her and Vernon, that's intolerable. So, yes, they'll do almost anything to hide from the letters. They want to hide the Wizarding World from Harry, and they'll do whatever they have to do to keep magic from entering their household. God forbid anything abnormal happens to them."

There was a deafening silence. Everyone looked absolutely shocked. Lily continued picking the fabric, as if she had said nothing. Narcissa and Lucius looked as if they were still trying to figure out what Lily had said. Snape wore a faintly bemused expression, no doubt remembering Petunia when she was younger. Petunia and Vernon were both staring openly at Lily, puzzled and surprised.

"That's no excuse," began Amos. He looked worriedly at Lily. "Harry hasn't been treated right at all****—****"

Lily cut him off, staring directly at Petunia. "Oh, I know. There's no excuse at all, and there never will be. When I looked at my son for the first time, I saw this little boy filled with love and wonder and hope. You should've seen him, Petunia. You really should have. I didn't expect life to be easy for him, not with the war going the way it was. I knew James or I or both of us might die, but I thought he would be given to Sirius. I don't know why he wasn't! I thought, even if he had to go live with Petunia, he would still be treated alright! Maybe not wonderfully! But alright! I didn't expect him to be kept in a cupboard! I didn't expect him to be underfed, and given hand-me-downs that never would've fit!"

Lily found herself suddenly standing, voice growing, a white hot anger rushing and tumbling around inside her that she had never felt before. Petunia looked white as a sheet as Lily shot dagger after dagger towards her, one with every poisoned word.

"I didn't expect Harry to be _neglected_ by you, Petunia, and _hit_ by my nephew! I didn't expect him to grow up friendless and _alone_, never knowing what it meant to be loved! I DIDN'T EXPECT for us to die, to leave my son all alone, for him to grow up never knowing anything about me! Never knowing a thing about me, or his father or his godfather or about magic!"

Lily raged at her sister, tears freely flowing from her face. That haunting picture of Harry in a cupboard was the only thing she saw. Lily could feel the hysteria coming along, but embraced it, lashing out as viciously as she possibly could.

"I DIDN'T EXPECT for him to never be hugged, never be loved, never given a proper birthday, never given anything of his own! I DIDN'T EXPECT him to have to act like a servant, serving you and your family and your fat _son_! All I wanted was to raise my child in a world free from fear, free from Death Eater attacks and You-Know-Who! I didn't want that for him! JAMES AND I DIED, TRYING TO PROTECT HARRY FROM THAT, but in the end, he did it himself! He defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named! He's a hero, a legend, someone to go down in history, and he's a scrawny little boy who's never known the parents that loved him so much, it killed them!"

The anger was starting to simmer down, but not enough. Lily tightened her jaw and glared down at the carpet, as all the resentment she had felt towards Petunia since that Christmas came rushing forward.

"I hope you die, Petunia, for what you've done to my son."

And with that, she whirled and raced into the girl's bathroom. The door slammed shut with a deafening crack, the lock clicked, and a thick silence filled every square inch of the room. No one spoke, no one moved. There were only gaping mouths, horrified expressions, incredulous looks, anger and shock and hurt seeping from everyone. After a few moments, the sound of gut-wrenching sobs came from the bathroom.

James recovered first. He rushed to the door, completely ignoring everyone else. He knocked quickly.

"Lily?" he croaked. "Lily, please open up. Lily, open up, please. Lily? Lily?"

But Lily didn't reply.

Sirius turned to Lupin. "We're not letting this happen. We're not. I'm not letting James and Lily die and leave Harry alone."

Lupin shook his head. "Nothing is absolute. Padfoot, listen, things are strange enough. Harry's a year old, and he defeated the most powerful dark wizard of all time. Something's not right. There's some strange, deep magic at work, and we don't know what's going to happen. Don't count on anything."

"Such an optimist, Moony," Sirius scowled, ready to argue.

"It was well-said, Remus," said Dumbledore nodding. "I believe the circumstances must have been strange indeed for someone to have chronicled them in these seven books, strange enough for us to be gathered here, for time to be stopped, for the future to change. They must have been dire circumstances indeed."

Ignoring this conversation, Snape sat alone in his armchair, his face impassive. He remembered precisely what Lily's sobs sounded like. He had gone looking for her after that one fateful day in fifth year. He had heard her before he saw her, and he knew he would never forget the sound. Lily was gentle, but she was strong. She kept a cool head, and wasn't an emotional trainwreck like most of the other fifth year girls. When Lily sobbed, it was straight from the heart, and it tore at his.

The Malfoy's, however, were unmoved. Lucius tilted his chin towards Snape and beckoned him over. Narcissa glanced around. No one was paying them any mind. Still . . .

"I wish for our voices to be incomprehensible to the others in the room."

She felt the room comply. Dumbledore's discussion became quieter, muted, the voices slightly garbled.

"Severus," Lucius began gravely. His gray eyes watched Snape intently. "The Dark Lord has fallen."

Snape's eyes were cold. "I'm aware," he drawled.

The three Death Eaters sat quietly for a moment. He would return. They all knew it. The Dark Lord had taken precautions against death. No one knew what exactly, but they could feel it. He was more demon these days than human. His red-tinted eyes challenged death, challenged it to try and claim him.

"He will be back," Narcissa whispered. "We all know it. He will return."

Snape wished for nothing more than the Dark Lord's defeat. He had told the Dark Lord the prophecy, and, in turn, he had struck the Potter's down, sparing not even Lily, whom Snape pleaded for.

Narcissa had Draco to think for. She was a Slytherin, a pureblood. After she married Lucius, her aiding the Death Eaters was expected. There was no other option. There never was. Now? The tables had turned. She had seen the Dark Lord punish other Death Eaters, and she knew it was only a matter of time before the Malfoy family came under his wrath. Lucius knew it as well.

But no one dared to say a thing.

It was Snape who laid down his loyalties first.

"We will, of course, listen carefully to the material in these books and find a way to alert the Dark Lord after escaping this room. Meanwhile, I suggest we all feign repentance to gain the trust of the Order. I'm sure we can all compose a decent apology and establish our status as supposedly "Redeemed Death Eaters" in the amount of time we have left. I'd say at least a week, at the painful rate we're going."

The bathroom was now quiet, but Lily showed no signs of returning to the group.

Lucius smirked. Narcissa's manner betrayed nothing.

"So be it," she said with a small smile.


End file.
